A Time To Live And A Time To Die
by Padawan Aneiki R'hyvar
Summary: Just before ANH, Obi-Wan receives unexpected guidance from the memory of a past mission with Qui-Gon Jinn
1. Remembrance

A TIME TO LIVE AND A TIME TO DIE

REMEMBRANCE

                Ben Kenobi sat quietly in the heat of the day, appreciating the warmth of twin suns to burn away the familiar ache of old bones.  Tatooine.  Force knew this was the _last_ place he'd ever expected to return to, much less spend the last twenty years of his life in.  As he did often, and as no one was around to hear him anyway, he sighed deeply with the burden of responsibility that sat on his shoulders just as heavily now as it had all those years ago when he'd been dispatched to carry out this mission.  The most important mission of his entire life, succinctly spoken in those musical, backwards-phrased tones of Yoda back on Coruscant.

                "Take the boy you must.  Hide him well you will.   Our last hope is he."

                It had been the darkest night of his life, second only to the loss of Anakin to the Dark Side.  The separation of twins, yet new to this life, from one another…Ben even now shivered as he recalled his leave-taking of the Jedi Temple, fairly deserted and gone to ruin as Darth Vader's new master continued his campaign of death against the Order.  As it was the most obvious place to search for them, it would also be the last and so there it was that he and Yoda had agreed to meet to discuss what should be done for the children born to Padmé.

                _Take the boy…_

                It was the second time that a charge had been given him to protect a child by a Master he respected.  The first charge had ended in disaster.  He could not allow that to happen again.  So it was that Luke Skywalker had been taken as nearly all Jedi-potentials were…a squirming child wrapped in blankets and laid in the arms of a Jedi Knight to be carried away to his destiny.

                A destiny, Kenobi reflected thoughtfully, that was fast catching up to them.  Luke was nearly twenty now, well beyond the age when most Jedi-initiates were taken as Padawans for further training to become a Jedi Knight.  Twenty years without benefit of the prior conditioning and tutelage that initiates received at the Temple.  Fitting him to face his future would be something of a challenge.  It would not be long now; soon events would be set in motion, events that Yoda had foreseen, that would bring the youth to him.

                _Take the boy…_

                _"Train him…promise me…"  Broken, desperate breathing and whispered words in a voice not heard in his ears for decades echoed suddenly in his memory, a familiar haunting that his failure with Anakin had left him with.  Master Qui-Gon's death all those years ago _still_ had the ability to make him mourn, and despite the doubled solar heat of Tatooine Kenobi shivered suddenly._

                Qui-Gon existed now in the Force just as surely as he had in this plane of existence as his master years ago, and suddenly Ben found himself remembering a pair of intensely intelligent, perceptive eyes in a face framed by the hood of Jedi robes, long greying hair bound back and hidden by that hood.

                The mental image took on an abrupt clarity, a sharp focus that could only come from the Force, and Ben found himself compelled to look back to memories long buried, as if there was a message inside him that was only now meant to be heard.  Ben closed his eyes and cast himself into the sweet river-flow that was the living Force all around him.  When he opened his eyes again, it was not the present sandy heat-drenched dunes of Tatooine that met his steady gaze, but rather another place that he had not darkened the door of in many, many years.

                Giving himself over to the vision, he stepped into the cool familiar hallway and was enveloped completely.


	2. LifeDays and Patience Passages

ONE

                Obi-Wan Kenobi felt like he was a fish trying to swim upstream against a heavy current; the tide of initiates and Padawans moving from class to class all seemed to be in the _opposite_ direction from where he wanted to go.

                Obi-Wan, are you coming? Qui-Gon's semi-impatient question feathered into his mind through the master-apprentice bond, prompting him to be a little more urgent in his efforts to make his way through the press of people.  This was one of the busiest—and narrowest—hallways in the entire Jedi Temple.  'Seems like someone should have thought about that when they designed the place.'  A sudden, light chuckle filtered into his consciousness and he realized belatedly that he'd allowed that thought to pass unchecked through the bond.  They did, Qui-Gon replied amusedly.  Why else do you think it's nicknamed 'Patience Passage?'

                Obi-Wan allowed a soft chuckle of his own.  Somehow, he sensed a meditation lesson in that nickname…he wouldn't be surprised if Qui-Gon set him to it next meditation period.

                I _am coming, Master. He reassured just as he became somewhat sandwiched between a rather tall, barrel-chested Tirus'han and something—someone—bumping against his legs.  A sudden, sharp pain in his foot gave him to know he'd just been trampled on. "OW!"_

                "If going where you were you would watch, stepped on you would not be."

                "Master Yoda!" Obi-Wan exclaimed somewhat apologetically.  He realized that the diminutive Jedi Master's ever-present gimer stick was what had just flattened his toes. He glanced up at Tirus'han as they pressed past one another.  "Sorry."  He offered up.

                Then, as suddenly as it had become so packed, the hallway was abruptly empty as students found their classes and Obi-Wan was relatively alone with the small Jedi.

                "A class you have not?" Yoda inquired, turning to head back in the same direction as the young Padawan.  Obi-Wan wondered at this sudden, singular attention that was diverting Yoda from wherever he'd previously been going, but he didn't question it.

                "No, Master." He responded respectfully, walking more freely now but slowing his pace in deference to Yoda's short steps.  "I mean, yes Master but I've been summoned by Master Qui-Gon."

                "Taking you from your work he is?" Yoda's expression and tone were both curious and quizzical.  Obi-Wan paused a moment, a slight confused expression puckering his eyebrows into a mild frown.

                "He said it was about a mission.  I assumed…" He let the sentence hang, knowing that assumptions were often a dangerous thing for anyone, let alone a Jedi Knight.  _Bad habit; he chided himself.  _Must stop doing that_._

                "Ohhh…mission, yes."  Yoda nodded and abruptly did an about face.  "See your master you must.  Go with him you will."

                Obi-Wan stopped walking abruptly and turned to watch the Jedi Master make his way down the fairly deserted Patience Passage, the tapping of the walking stick echoing oddly.  His frown deepened a little.  Of course he would go with Master Qui-Gon…why _wouldn't_ he go?  Yoda felt the Padawan's sudden deep curiosity and he nodded to himself a little as he continued on his way, watched by the young man behind him.

                Obi-Wan? Another prompting from Qui-Gon startled him out of his reverie, and he turned sharply, dashing down the hall at full speed and taking the steps at the far end two at a time.

                Coming!

                Now it was Yoda's turn to pause and watch the retreating back of Obi-Wan Kenobi as he hurried up the stairs and he tapped his gimer stick thoughtfully.

                "Redeem one another you will."

                                                                ******************

                Qui-Gon Jinn wore a rather amused expression as he watched the slight hustle of last-minute activity around him.  Bant and a few others of Obi-Wan's friends had also been excused from a single class with the promise of taking a later lecture.  The small room that the Padawan had been summoned to was big enough for them all but just barely.  Their shared quarters several levels below would have been too suspicious.

                "Do you think he has any idea what's going on, Master Qui-Gon?" Thaile asked the tall man nervously.  Thaile was nearly two years younger than Obi-Wan but already quite a skilled linguist; languages were a gift to her and she was quite the asset to her Master on missions of negotiation and treaty-making.  Her saber skills needed honing but that would come with time and practice.

                "I'm quite sure he does not."  Qui-Gon inclined his head a little, as if listening.  "But that will be remedied shortly, I'm sure."

                The door suddenly slid open and Obi-Wan burst into the room, breathing a little hard and slightly disheveled from coming at a dead run up several flights of stairs.  His expression turned instantly from one of hard concentration to complete confusion as he took in the scene before him.  His eyes met his master's but before he could say anything there was a hard tug on his Padawan's braid and a chorus of happy exclamations.

                "Good Life-Day, Obi-Wan!" Slender, unassuming Thaile was the one who had yanked on the braid and she was the first to speak.  Obi-Wan looked from her to the other in surprise.  He'd been so busy of late that he'd quite forgotten is own birth day.  It was something that Jedi generally didn't spend much recognition on, but initiates and Padawans were permitted to observe small celebrations if they wished.

                "Th…Thank you."  Kenobi stammered a little, both slightly embarrassed by all the attention and by the slight confusion that remained about the circumstances of his summons and the apparent goal of surprising him here.  "I thought it was a mission, Master." He looked to Qui-Gon with that same quizzical expression.  He wasn't used to being deceived in this manner.  Jinn smiled a little at the boy's trusting nature.

                "There is one." He said finally.  "Just that since our leaving is not until tomorrow, I saw no reason that this should be put off because of it."

                Obi-Wan stepped further into the room now, and he smiled happily.  Through the bond he sensed that there was something else, that perhaps their delayed departure was at the request of his Master in order to recognize today for what it was.  Across the room from him, Jinn nodded just slightly, confirming that impression.

                The little celebration was limited to one class-session in length, but it was pleasant and a few of his friends had crafted gifts for him.  There was much laughter and story-telling; often a life-day was marked by remembrances of friends both funny and serious regarding the person's impact in their lives.  It was recognition of that person's value to them and of the gift the Force had given them in knowing him or her.

                It was after the others had filed out to go to their next class that Qui-Gon drew near to his apprentice, smiling a little.

                "_You did this, Master, didn't you?"  Obi-Wan accused lightly.  Qui-Gon gave him a slight nod.  "I thought Knights didn't observe life-days."  The Code didn't exactly forbid such observance, but Jedi tradition was that it was laid aside after youth to maintain the proper personal decorum and focus a Jedi must have._

                "I made an exception."  Jinn replied quietly.  "Good Life-Day to you, my Padawan."  Kenobi grinned now, a happy flash in blue-grey eyes.  "After all…" Qui-Gon continued. "You are twenty-two now; there won't be many of these left."

                Obi-Wan looked up now, startled.

                "Master?  Are you putting me to the Trials?  Is that what the mission is?"

                "No…" Qui-Gon laughed a little.  "Not quite yet. You still have _some_ time left with me before you are knighted.  But I do have something for you."  He produced a small box and handed it to Kenobi, watching expectantly as the younger man accepted it from his hand and carefully opened it.

                "Master…" Obi-Wan breathed out softly.  "I…I can't…"

                "Can I not honor the gift the Force has given me in you?" Qui-Gon chided his pupil's reluctance, reaching long fingers into the box to pull out a small golden medallion, obviously handcrafted and incredibly intricate.

                "But this…your own Master gave you this when you became his Padawan."

                Qui-Gon's wise look silenced any further protest, and he reached up to place the medallion over his apprentice's head and draped it around his neck.  Obi-Wan looked at it a moment, studying its design.

                "My master gave me this two days before he left me here to undertake a mission from which he never returned."  Qui-Gon explained softly, and Obi-Wan instinctively felt through the bond just how special a gift this was.  "He gave it to me, he said, as a sign of his trust in me, that I would go on to become a Jedi Master and pass on all that the Force had given me.  Back then I was too young to understand but I believe now that he knew he wasn't to return.  All I knew then was this was his way of telling me how very proud he was of me."  He looked into Obi-Wan's eyes now.  "As I am of you, Padawan."

                Praise tended to color Obi-Wan's cheeks and it did now, a slight flush of red blossoming on his face.  Qui-Gon squeezed his apprentice's shoulder in a briefly affectionate gesture.

                "Thank you Master." Kenobi said softly as he looked back down at the token of esteem his teacher and friend had bestowed on him.  Qui-Gon could feel the genuine, humble gratitude through the bond and he smiled a little.

                "You're welcome.  Now.  Come with me and we'll talk of the mission over noon meal."

                Eagerly Obi-Wan scooped up his things to follow his master out.  Excitement was not something a Jedi sought out according to the Code, but one of his favorite things about a mission meant seeing things and going places he had never seen or been to before.  The wonder of a sunrise on a new world was not lost on him at all.  It was one truth he'd received well, that the Force graced all life no matter where it was found.


	3. A Balance Lost

TWO

                "Let me show you."  Qui-Gon said patiently, assuming a "ready" stance and igniting his lightsaber.  Standing aside a few paces, Obi-Wan watched intently as his master demonstrated a new technique.  "This is particularly useful as a defense against multiple attackers but will work just as well with a single opponent if you use shorter movements."

                The mission, it had turned out in their discussion over their meal, was a relatively simple one; they were being dispatched to assess possible candidates for Jedi initiation, babes and young children barely walking who might join the Order and begin the training.  Obi-Wan was somewhat surprised; normally crèche Masters and their Padawans did such choosing. He'd been expecting something like negotiations or diplomatic duties, perhaps even rendering humanitarian aid to some colony in distress.  While he was not exactly…displeased with their assignment, he wasn't quite thrilled with it either.

                However, the Padawan knew that his duty was to the Code, and to his Master and wherever Qui-Gon was dispatched to perform a Jedi's work he would go and work alongside.  So he'd shoved aside his minor disappointments and prepared for saber practice, changing into light sparring clothes and digging down into that quiet center to tap into the calm and peace of the Force.

                Qui-Gon demonstrated the move again, at a little faster pace than the first showing, and Obi-Wan followed it silently with his eyes, watching the darting green blade and committing the movements to memory.  Coming to stand alongside his master, Obi-Wan ignited his saber and took a "ready" stance.

                Slow first. Qui-Gon instructed him through the bond, and together master and apprentice made the same motions, gracefully stepping and moving their blades as one.  Qui-Gon guided his student through the movement using the bond, and Obi-Wan let him, feeling the gentle Force-touch of his master direct his hand when it wanted to stray in the wrong direction.  Good, that was good.  Do it again. Once more they walked through the technique together, mirror images side by side in perfect rhythm.

                "This seems…a little awkward." Obi-Wan commented on a particular stance as he brought his saber around in a slow arc.  "Perhaps, if I put my weight on my _right_ foot…"

                "No, if you do that, when you come back here…" Qui-Gon moved a little and demonstrated the technique using Obi-Wan's suggested change.  "You'll be totally off-balance for the block, and you'll find yourself quite likely missing an arm.  Or a head." Straightening, he looked at his apprentice.  "Missing an arm you could conceivably survive.  Missing a head, however, makes survival rather more difficult."

                Despite the seriousness of the lesson and the even more serious consequences Qui-Gon had just described, Obi-Wan couldn't help but grin mischievously.  He had grown accustomed to his master's dry humor and even drier delivery, clever wit delivered with a deadpan expression.  The life of a Jedi was hard and demanding, but nowhere in the Code did it say that it couldn't be lightened with a little humor.  Even if it was bad humor.

                "As a hairstyle, it is rather extreme." He replied good-naturedly and Qui-Gon was the first to break, giving in to a soft chuckle.  "It's a good thing, Master, that you don't handle your blade the way you handle your jokes."  Qui-Gon smothered an outright laugh this time and then tucked his expression back into a serious demeanor.

                "And it's a good thing, Padawan, that you're a quick study.  Now focus…and show me again."

                This time Jinn stood off to the side as his student demonstrated the technique, watching its delivery closely.  He was pleased with the result; Obi-Wan performed the maneuver flawlessly, all grace and perfect balance.  He beckoned for the Padawan to repeat the move, only faster and Kenobi complied, a whirl of blue blade, ginger hair and surefooted motion.

                Kata-style was one thing, however.  Putting the move into practice was another thing entirely.  Re-igniting his saber, Qui-Gon stepped into the sparring circle and Obi-Wan took up position opposite him. Again, slow. Qui-Gon's voice in his mind, and then the Jedi Master was leading at him with a series of extremely exaggerated, slow attacks. Obi-Wan stepped fluidly into the defensive, using his newly-taught skills.  Parry, parry, block…spin, thrust, step, step, and wheel and block...mentally he guided himself through the movements.

                Now. The subtle breath into the bond was the only warning Obi-Wan received before Qui-Gon stepped up the attack, adding more speed and finesse into his motion.  As before, Kenobi was nearly a blur, moving effortlessly until…

                …the awkward spot.  Despite being a "quick study," Obi-Wan fell back to his initial instincts, pivoting on his right foot instead of his left, and just as his master had predicted he lost his balance completely as he moved to the block.  Qui-Gon saw the error just as he brought his own saber around and down and barely had time to pull the blow before the green blade sliced into vulnerable flesh.  Powered down to sparring strength, it might not take a head, but it could still deliver a nasty injury.  As it was…

                "OW!" Obi-Wan yelped as the very tip of the lightsaber flicked across his jaw-line and as he stumbled to regain his balance, made contact with his upraised hand, effectively disarming him as he dropped his own saber and tumbled unceremoniously onto the practice mat.

                "Obi-Wan!" Qui-Gon powered down his saber and quickly knelt at his apprentice's side, helping him to sit up and looking over the two nicks the saber had left in its wake.

                "I'm all right, Master." He squirmed a little.  Qui-Gon continued his inspection despite the protest.

                "This one will blister." Jinn pronounced, tilting the ginger head a little for a better look.  "We'd better get a burn patch from the infirmary."

                "Oh, sith…" Obi-Wan's complaint died before it could be truly spoken.  He knew better than to argue with Qui-Gon about something like this.  Still…  "I'm sure Healer Obuk will be _so pleased to see me again."_

                "Sarcasm," Jinn replied somewhat sternly as he turned his inspection to his student's hand, "does not become a Jedi."  Kenobi dropped his gaze a little, duly chastised but still not wanting to go to the infirmary.

                "Yes, Master."

                "Besides, didn't I teach you the first rule of dueling is to know when to duck?" Qui-Gon's eyes took on a merry spark as he stood.  "If you'd master that, then you wouldn't have to see Healer Obuk so often now, would you?"  He took hold of his Padawan's uninjured hand and pulled him to his feet.  "I think that'll do for saber practice today.  When we get back, we should prepare ourselves for the mission; it's something of a journey to Bahreen."


	4. Strong Impact

THREE

                Obi-Wan scratched lightly at the synthflesh patch that now graced his right hand; his chin as Qui-Gon observed had needed a little extra patching up; the bacta-laced burn patch laid along his jaw doing its work.  There was another medication in it as well, soothing to the damaged skin and keeping him from wanting to dig the patch off, unlike the synthflesh which itched to no end.

                Obi-Wan. His master's light rebuke carried in the speaking of his name, even mentally, made the young Padawan sigh softly.

                Yes, I know.  But it's driving me crazy! He allowed a little of his annoyance to spill over into the bond as he scratched along his right forefinger, the current "driving me crazy" itch spot.

                It is healing.  Keep at it like that and you'll tear the patch and invite infection, you know that.  There is some cream in the 'fresher.  Try a little of that and then finish your packing.

                Qui-Gon was in the main room of their apartments here in the Temple, studying a pair of datapads on the people and customs of Bahreen.  Obi-Wan was preparing the things they would need to take with them, extra changes of clothing, personal items, several datapads and the traditional tokens given to parents of Force-sensitives who were taken for the training.  The tokens were an old practice, not much used any longer, but occasionally Qui-Gon sensed they were of importance to the families saying good-bye to children they had brought into the universe with their love.

                Obi-Wan wandered back to the 'fresher to retrieve the indicated lotion, slapping on a generous portion and working it in around the peeling, healing, patched hand.  Eventually the patch would be absorbed as fresh skin cells incorporated it into the natural healing process.  But for now it was 'foreign.'  Foreign, and making him scratch every few moments like a small child picking at a scab.  'Hmph.' He thought to himself. 'I _am_ twenty-two. Qui-Gon should not have to reprimand me about something as trivial as this.'  Fortunately he'd remembered to shield that thought, keep it from floating out into the bond between them.

                He replaced the tube of cream and stepped back out into his room to continue packing.  Picking up an extra outer robe, he rolled it up quickly and started to stuff it into the small duffle bag lying open on the sleep couch.  The cloth had only barely begun to enter the bag when he suddenly froze in place, his air coming in short little breaths.

                A Force wave of some power swept over him, and the robe slithered to the floor in a heap as nerveless fingers released it and not enough of it was in the duffle yet to keep it there.  A moment later Obi-Wan followed suit as his legs gave way and he dropped to his knees.

                It was only a moment.  Strong images of a young woman flashed through his mind, and her haunted eyes pierced him with such a look of fear and yet…what was it…determination?  It burned through his mind and into his soul almost with its intensity—and with its very strong Force-sensitive signature.  A Force signature that was _so strong that it actually __hurt, driving down his shields and making him clasp his head in both hands._

                Master… He managed to moan through the bond.  Help…me…

                It was in that moment that Qui-Gon was examining the face of someone he had not seen in many years, someone he would never see again, the tiny holopic the only fragment of a long-buried…what was it, lifetime perhaps, ago?  That's what it felt like to him, a lifetime.  'So much has changed since then.' He thought.

                Suddenly his Padawan's desperate plea reached him, followed by such an intense wave of _pain through the bond that it was obvious the boy's shields were completely dismantled.  Instantly Qui-Gon was on his feet, shoving aside the repulsor chair and rushing into his apprentice's sleeping quarters, at once concerned and horrified to see Obi-Wan on his knees, fairly curled up into a little ball, holding his head in both hands and the only sound he was making was a soft, uncontrollable groan._

                "Obi-Wan…" For the second time that day, he knelt beside his apprentice, laying a hand on his shoulder and speaking softly.  "Can you hear me?"  No response save the low, muffled moan.  Jinn tried a different tack, reaching carefully into the bond, raising his own shields just slightly as the pain sensation drilled into him.  I'm here, my Padawan. A flash of Force-sense passed between them, a sense that did not belong to either man, and so Qui-Gon knew that this was not from within his student but from without.  Carefully he reached in, trying to layer his own shields around his Padawan to protect him, with limited success.

                Then, as suddenly as the onslaught had begun, it simply…stopped.  Slowly, carefully, Obi-Wan straightened up to meet his master's gaze, looking terribly dazed.  Wordlessly, he groped his way to his feet, Qui-Gon scrambling quickly to rise as well.  "What was it?" Jinn asked gently.  Obi-Wan shook his head just the tiniest bit, wincing a little at the remnants of the powerful contact.

                "I…don't know…"

                Abruptly all color fled from the young Jedi's face and a moment later his knees buckled as he fell forward.

                Master…


	5. Mystery and Anxiety

FOUR

                Qui-Gon shifted quickly, supporting Obi-Wan's weight as the younger man sagged limply against him, quite unconscious.  Shoving the bag to the floor with a quick sweep of his hand, he gently eased Obi-Wan onto the sleep couch.  Initial outward observances produced no clue as to the Padawan's collapse and the only hint Qui-Gon had otherwise had been that brief sense that had washed over him through the bond.  It was too brief a touch to render any sort of identification of Kenobi's assailant—if indeed it had been an attack of some sort—and too…what?  Qui-Gon couldn't put a finger on it.  Too uninterested in him, it almost felt like.  As if somehow Obi-Wan had drawn it to himself like a magnet and it couldn't be bothered with anyone else.

                Jinn frowned slightly as he watched the slow rise and fall of Obi-Wan's chest as he breathed.  If it _had been some sort of attack, that kind of focus…  A sudden choking sensation rushed over him as the muscles in his throat constricted a little; the thought of such a deliberate attack of that sort was a worrisome thing._

                He noted that except for being out cold, there appeared to be little else wrong with the motionless apprentice.  With his expression still tucked in a bit of a frown, he reached over and rested the palm of his hand against Obi-Wan's forehead.  Closing his eyes, Qui-Gon reached out along their bond and gently probed.  His eyes flew open a moment later when he realized there was no response.  None at all.  Obi-Wan's shields were still down; it wasn't any sort of barrier.  It was, quite simply, as if the boy had been switched off like a saber, still and silent and frankly that was _not_ the Obi-Wan Kenobi he knew.  It had often been observed by Mace Windu that the ways of the Force were occasionally humorous as well as wise, pairing the quietest, most reserved Master with the most energetic Padawan in the entire Temple.

                A brief, chill finger stabbed at his chest as he realized all of this in a single breath, as his quietly sent Padawan? was met by eerie silence.  Abruptly he rose, intending to scoop Obi-Wan up into his arms and carry him, all the way to the healers' wing by himself if he had to, by the Force!

                But just as Qui-Gon was slipping an arm around his shoulders and pulling him upright, Obi-Wan blinked open his eyes and he looked around, disoriented.

                Master? He queried and suddenly the bond came flooding back upon them both, making the older man smile in gratitude and the younger one wince a little.

                "It's all right, Obi-Wan."  Jinn's voice was, as ever, calming.  "You're still in your room."  He allowed his apprentice to shift back a little until he was sitting upright against the pillows.  "How do you feel?"

                "I'm…" Obi-Wan blinked a moment, looking almost as confused as he had just before his collapse.  "My head hurts." He finally admitted, reaching up to scrub a hand across his forehead.  Force, it ached!  Qui-Gon watched him carefully. 

"Do you remember what happened?"

                "I…was packing for the mission, Master."  Obi-Wan answered confidently.  "You said we'd have an early start in the morning."

                "That's right." Qui-Gon encouraged.  "Then…what?"

                Obi-Wan opened his mouth to speak, and then shut it again as he realized that he really didn't know what had happened.

                "I…woke up here."  He said slowly.

                "You don't remember calling out to me?" Now Qui-Gon was truly concerned.  He could only imagine the amount of power his apprentice had come in contact with in order to produce such a pain and memory loss.  Obi-Wan frowned heavily in confusion, despite the extra ache it seemed to draw to his forehead.

                "No, I…" He paused a moment, as if straining for something just beyond his reach, but like sand through fingers it escaped him, and he finally shook his head a little.  "No, Master."

                Through the bond, Qui-Gon could sense how depleted Obi-Wan's defenses still were and with his own eyes he could see the slight tremble in the younger man's hand as he reached up to rub again at his forehead.  Whatever this had been, it had drained him completely.

                "I think we'll pay another visit to Healer Obuk." Jinn said at length, not liking what he was seeing and sensing.

                "Oh Master…" This time Obi-Wan did protest, albeit tiredly.  "Do we have to go all the way over there?  I'm all right, I promise.  I just need…" He blinked tired eyes and slid down onto the sleep couch, pulling the pillows down with him and curling around them.

                Qui-Gon pressed his lips into a tight line, his only outward sign of displeasure.  Truly he wanted to be sure his apprentice was unharmed, and perhaps to discover the source of his distress, however momentary.  Before he could say more, however, he was already aware of Obi-Wan sliding off into sleep, his exhausted mind and body demanding it.  The Jedi Master drew in a deep, slow breath, allowing himself to push aside his anxieties over his Padawan and find his center.  It seemed highly unlikely that anyone should wish to inflict intentional harm on Obi-Wan, but if it should turn out to be more than just an accidental contact, the Force would reveal it to be so.

                Still…there was nothing saying their departure from Coruscant could not be rescheduled for a later hour, to allow the healers a look at him, either.  So decided, Qui-Gon reached down and brushed back the Padawan's braid from Obi-Wan's face and then rising, picked up the nearby blanket and draped it gently over him.

                Rest well, my Padawan.


	6. Unsettling Sunrise

FIVE  
  
It was a very different Padawan Kenobi that awoke the next morning from the one in evidence the night before. Coming out onto the balcony and seating himself a few paces from his master, Obi-Wan greeted the sunrise with him, face upturned to its first rays of warmth.  
  
Good morning, Master. Obi-Wan barely brushed their bond so as not to completely disturb Qui-Gon's meditation. His master's robe was gathered tightly around him; Force only knew how long before dawn the Jedi Master had been sitting out here.  
  
You're up early. Jinn replied good-naturedly, not yet opening his eyes but remaining as he was, sitting cross-legged on the cold duracrete balcony floor. Obi-Wan paused in his preparations to meditate, opening his eyes and giving his master a sidelong glance.  
  
You *did* say an *early* start. Force knows, when your mind is set to something, there's no sleep for me.  
  
Qui-Gon did open his eyes now as well, emerging from the deepest place in his soul in the Force to regard his Padawan-learner affectionately. There had been no complaint in Obi-Wan's tone, only light teasing, and Qui-Gon had to admit that he was something of a dawn- patroller.  
  
"We have an errand to run before we depart for Bahreen; and I want you to come with me." Qui-Gon rose as he spoke, shaking out his outer robe and stretching the kinks from his neck. "When you're finished with your meditations, come join me."  
  
"Yes, Master." Obi-Wan inclined his head respectfully toward Qui- Gon, the sun setting ginger hair aflame in its early-morning glory. Jinn took the few steps necessary to re-enter the apartments, but paused at the doorway to look back at the young Jedi sitting motionless on the balcony, feeling him slip into the warm river of Force current that swirled all around them, to draw on its peace and tranquility to begin the day. And silently, without speaking through the bond or his voice, he thanked the Force for allowing him yet another day, another chance, another opportunity to make amends. To see a strong Jedi emerge from ashes of past mistakes and to keep a promise made long ago…  
  
Qui-Gon shook off such melancholy thoughts; it wouldn't do to muddle the mission with things like that. Drawing a deep breath and slowly exhaling, he let them go into the Force and walked into their quarters to prepare a morning meal.  
  
Obi-Wan settled comfortably into his meditation, knowing that they were going to be selecting the future of the Order today, a new generation of Jedi that would start out much as he had, a small child unaware of the largeness of the universe around him, receiving a new family and sometimes even new names. These children would shape the destiny and future of the galaxy for the Light someday. The Force would do its own choosing; he and Qui-Gon were merely the messengers of its will.  
  
Sinking further in, feeling its liquid warmth bathe him in peace, he sought out thoughts, images, or hints of what to look for. He imagined the innocent Bahreena children playing in the sun, perhaps one or two could move toys with their thoughts or had quicker reflexes than the other small ones. Babies who projected their Force-signature without even trying just because it was within. The simple joys of the children pervaded his thoughts and he unconsciously smiled on the outside at the feelings they produced.  
  
Suddenly his sense of the Force shifted, became…restless for lack of a better word to describe it, and Obi-Wan mentally leaned into the sensation, listening for what he was about to hear, straining to know what he was to know for this day's work.  
  
What he heard, was a scream.  
  
Qui-Gon very nearly had everything ready and had just turned to see how Obi-Wan was progressing when he heard the most blood-chilling scream he had ever heard in his life, or at least in a very long while. Peace of the Force notwithstanding it nearly made him jump from his skin when he realized it wasn't something he was hearing through the Force or from somewhere within the Temple--he was hearing the anguished voice of his Padawan!  
  
The scream itself was very short; by the time Qui-Gon had run out onto the balcony it was silenced. Obi-Wan however was standing, staring straight ahead and not moving, blinking, and barely breathing as if frozen in time. Qui-Gon was at his side in a breath, placing a hand on his apprentice's shoulder.  
  
"What is it, my Padawan?" He intoned soothingly, intentionally moving and talking in a deliberate manner to calm the apprentice; through the bond he could sense Obi-Wan's heart racing as if he'd seen something terrifying. "Obi-Wan?" Kenobi suddenly snapped his head around to face his master, fixing him with such a heartbroken look that it startled Qui-Gon.  
  
"Master…" Obi-Wan choked out hoarsely, then blinked, coming to himself fully and glancing away, somewhat embarrassed.  
  
Don't be. The Jedi Master assured him. Tell me what you saw, Obi- Wan.  
  
Obi-Wan shook his head mutely, his expression becoming distressed.  
  
"I can't." He spoke aloud, as if making sure his vocal cords still worked. "I don't know what I saw."  
  
Show me then…here. Qui-Gon continued to flood his apprentice with support through their bond, still sensing Obi-Wan's discomfort both emotionally and physically to whatever he'd witnessed in the trance.  
  
I *can't*! Obi-Wan repeated, agitated. I would, Master but…it's…gone.  
  
The bond was as open as it ever was between them; there was no deception in his Padawan's tone, manner or appearance. Whatever had frightened him so badly had simply been withdrawn.  
  
"What can you tell me?" Qui-Gon spoke aloud now, again seeking to soothe with the sound of his voice.  
  
"She…she was beautiful."


	7. Force Preserve Him

SIX  
  
"The woman he describes…" Qui-Gon was standing in a small waiting area of the infirmary while Healer Obuk was tending yet again to his favorite patient. He spoke quietly to his audience of two; Masters Yoda and Mace Windu. "…is a mystery to me; from what little he recalls, it seems she _may be a Force-sensitive. However I am not sure from what he has been able to show me where she is or how we may find her."  
  
"Reaching out to Obi-Wan she is." Yoda murmured thoughtfully. "Find you she will; no help from you will she need." The small Jedi Master looked up Qui-Gon, absorbing the other's response to his words.  
  
"And you say this random contact was initiated this morning during Obi-Wan's meditations?" Mace asked, leaning forward with one hand on his knee.  
  
"Actually, I believe it was initiated last night…and if it __was a chance encounter, it is no longer. This morning proved that." Qui-Gon sat down now, facing his masters fully. "The first contact was overwhelming; whether it was this girl herself or another, I cannot say. But it was powerful enough to render him unconscious and close his mind to me."  
  
Yoda and Mace Windu exchanged concerned looks; Qui-Gon wondered just what it was that they were thinking through all of this. He was about to ask, in fact, when they were interrupted by the presence of Obuk's apprentice Jeryia, a young healer of rather incredible talent who likely would be teaching her own apprentices before she had yet reached the age of 20.  
  
"Master Jinn?" She said respectfully, and Qui-Gon shifted to face her.  
  
"Yes."  
  
"You have an apprentice who is very anxious to get out of here." She smiled a little, and Qui-Gon returned it, feeling a rush of relief begin to flood through him. _That_ sounded very much like the Obi-Wan Kenobi he was so familiar with. "However the healer would like a word with you." The rush was stopped full force as if it had run into a brick wall inside him; a thread of worry replaced it as he nodded respectfully to his masters and rose to his feet, following the young girl further into the infirmary.  
  
Obi-Wan was lying on a repulsor bed, fidgeting. After this morning's episode there had been no discussion, no argument allowed; Qui-Gon wanted to be certain there was no harm done to his Padawan. Perhaps Obi-Wan didn't fully understand his value to his master, but Qui-Gon knew that if he were to lose him now…  
  
He pushed that thought almost savagely aside, not allowing himself to dwell on something that he would have advised Obi-Wan not to focus on were the roles reversed. _Heed your own advice, Jedi Master_. He chided himself. _It is the Living Force you seek_. With that, he gave his Padawan a slight, reassuring smile. Patience, Obi-Wan. His smile deepened a little when all he received back through the bond was a soft, agitated sigh. "Anxious to leave" was a bit of an understatement.  
  
Passing Obi-Wan by, he entered into a small office-like cubby; Obuk was not a man given to ostentation and for a healer had very little need for official space. The slender, nearly toothpick-like man looked up at Qui-Gon's entrance, and he motioned for the Jedi to sit on the small stool in the corner.  
  
"Master Qui-Gon. You keep sending this one back. Are you trying to send him to the Force before he takes the Trials, my friend?"  
  
Qui-Gon smothered a chuckle, but the small joke had become something of a running exchange between them. Through the years Obi-Wan had seen his fair share of scrapes, bumps, bruises, burns and broken bones. Some could be chalked up to childhood adventures in his younger years; several like the saber nicks a day earlier were due to the dangers of training or missions. At least one or two were simple bad luck. But that hadn't stopped Obuk from good-natured kidding of his friend and peer.  
  
"Oh he'll face the Trials all right, _if_ he manages not to send himself there first, Force preserve him." Qui-Gon finished the other half of the now familiar banter. Both men laughed a little, but once the familiar anchor had been cast, the unfamiliar beckoned seriousness soon enough. "What did you find, old friend?"  
  
"Your Padawan seems to me to be in fine shape for having experienced a presence of the sort of magnitude you described to me…" Obuk moved to activate a holo-display. "All except for this." There was a flash and a display hovered between the two men, drawing Qui-Gon's attention. "There is a small indication of neurological damage as a result of his exposure."  
  
"How small?" Qui-Gon asked instantly. "And what sort of damage?"  
  
"Very small. Scanners almost didn't pick it up even. It's very mild and likely easily corrected with the proper therapy. However I'm not sure what will happen if he has too many more of these episodes of prolonged contact."  
  
"Perhaps I should pursue this mission and leave Obi-Wan in your capable hands…" Qui-Gon said thoughtfully. Obuk shrugged a little.  
  
"You could, Qui-Gon but I don't see where a few days' journey will make much difference in his condition. Just see to it that when you return, you send him back." Obuk grinned once more.. "Again."  
  
"Very well, Master Healer, I'll do just that."  
  
"Good. In the meantime," Obuk passed a datachip to the Jedi Knight. "Here's a list of things to watch for. If you see any of them, contact me immediately." He rose and clasped his friend's shoulder. "He's a good one, I believe, Qui-Gon. Watch out for him." That too was something Obuk affirmed nearly every time they spoke, and Jinn nodded.  
  
"I will as always, Obuk. Thank you for your kindness."  
  
"Force be with you, Qui-Gon Jinn. Now take that nuisance and get out of my ward."  
  
"Force be with you."  
  
Passing back through the outer room, Qui-Gon made a brief motion to the figure lying on the bed, hands now tucked in behind his head and feet crossed lazily in an attempt to appear patient as he had been told. Qui- Gon wasn't buying it for a minute.  
  
Come on then, get your cloak and let's go.  
  
Just that fast, Obi-Wan shot up from the bed and darted after his master, scooping up the wayward cloak with one hand and shrugging his way into it as they emerged into the sitting area. The two Jedi masters had gone; in their place was only silence.  
  
"Did you talk him out of keeping me, Master?" Kenobi asked almost immediately, a hopeful cast to his expression. Qui-Gon gave him a curious look.  
  
"I thought you didn't want to go to Bahreen. After all, it's not our usual mission profile."  
  
Obi-Wan hesitated in mid-step, giving his master a guilty look.  
  
"You knew about that?" He kicked himself mentally for not having better guarded his initial disappointment concerning their mission.  
  
"I have half a mind to put you back in there; it would give you plenty of time to meditate on the Code while I was gone." Qui-Gon was not above a little 'blackmail' of sorts to teach his lessons, and this resulted in another slight cringe from his apprentice. "A Jedi…"  
  
"…does not seek adventure. His focus is on the Force, not on excitement or praise." Obi-Wan recited dutifully, suddenly having the sinking feeling that he was indeed being left behind.  
  
"No mission is ever mundane, Obi-Wan. There is purpose in everything we are called to do."  
  
"Yes, Master." Kenobi answered softly, and Qui-Gon could tell from the tone of his voice and the oh-so-slight slump of his shoulders that the lesson had been taken to heart. "When will you be leaving?"  
  
"As soon as you finish packing. You rather left that undone last night, if you recall. Don't forget your interstellar history datapad, there will be plenty of time on the journey for you to study for your exam." Qui-Gon watched amusedly as his Padawan's expression brightened considerably. "Go on; I'll catch up to you shortly."  
  
"Yes, Master!" Obi-Wan took off at a run, and Jinn watched him go a moment, shaking his head slightly. _You're right, Obuk_. He thought to himself. _He _is__ a good one. And I will __watch over him.  
  
Resolved yet again to that, Qui-Gon turned to go rearrange their departure plans._


	8. A Wound Concealed

SEVEN  
  
"Mistress."  
  
Before he even spoke, she knew the tall man standing in her doorway was her most trusted servant Yhriel. 'Most trusted,' of course, meant that she monitored him slightly less than the rest of her household staff. Nacena did not turn around but simply raised her hand, indicating that he should continue. "The Jedi are departing Coruscant as you have desired."  
  
"But not for _why_ I desired." She replied flatly. "But that is no bother; I will have all of my desires soon enough, be assured. See to it my transport is prepared. I will travel to Bahreen myself and observe."  
  
"Mistress…" Yhriel repeated the word, only this time it was laced with concern. "And what of your appointment to the Senate?"  
  
"I have been told to be patient for far too long, Yhriel. Chancellor Velorum and his senators can be patient now for me. I will arrive when I arrive and that will be good enough for them. Besides," Nacena now turned and gazed emotionlessly at her servant. "I am not the only newly appointed senator that will arrive this session."  
  
"Perhaps not, my lady," Yhriel inclined his head respectfully upon receiving her full gaze. "But you _are_ the most unique. And that by virtue will draw some attention."  
  
Nacena smiled a little, almost amused at Yhriel's attempts to stay her hand. He had mastered the art of diplomacy rather well; a lesser effort from another servant might have resulted in…consequences. To this one, however, she merely nodded her head a little.  
  
"Then my arrival will also be unique, shall it not? Ready my ship."  
  
Yhriel sighed a bit; he recognized that as a final decision, not to be questioned. He bowed slightly from the waist, having learned at a young age that it was a good idea to be watchful as well as respectful. He backed from the chamber, leaving his mistress to her thoughts.  
  
Her thoughts, which she had kept counsel with for many years, waiting for this moment.  
  
Nacena smiled. She was waiting no longer.  
  
+++++  
  
Obi-Wan gave his sleeping quarters a last once-over. Everything had been readied for the journey, the room itself had been neatened up and didn't look quite so much like it belonged to a harried and somewhat less- than-domestic Padawan. Gathering his things and intending to put them by the door in the outer room, his attention was arrested by something lying on the floor next to the repulsor chair that was his master's favorite.  
  
Putting everything down, he crossed over and picked it up. It was a holopic generator, a palm-held disk of a sort that was rarely used these days. Obviously it belonged to Qui-Gon; there was little chance that anyone else would have left it here. He started to lay it on the table, knowing that once he realized it was missing Qui-Gon would fairly turn the place upside down looking for it. Curiosity, however, reached out a snaking tendril and tickled his mind, making him wonder whose picture his master had been carrying around with him. His thumb found the tab that would turn it on, and he pressed it gently, not certain at all if the battered-looking disk would even work.  
  
A tiny hum and the device sprang to life, generating the hologram of a woman. It was a simple close-up of her face, capturing the essence of porcelain skin and eyes so blue as to defy description. Her lips were parted in a single breath, as if she were calling out to him. She was frozen in time here and for a reason unknown to him, his master carried her image.  
  
A reason that quite likely would--and _should_, he thought guiltily--remain unknown to him. He moved his thumb to switch off the device, when the small shift in the angle with which he viewed her caught his eye. Recognition slammed into him and he nearly dropped the little unit altogether.  
  
She looked uncannily like the woman he had described to his master on the balcony as they'd stood there in the light of the rising sun. Swallowing convulsively, he quickly turned off the holopic and placed the disk on the table. A shiver coursed through his frame, although he wasn't quite sure why; it felt like a chill breath running straight down his spine.  
  
Are you ready, my Padawan? Qui-Gon's touch against their bond was enough to make Obi-Wan jump, but he controlled the reaction and hurried to gather his things, left on the other side of the room.  
  
I'm ready, Master. Kenobi took two steps toward the door, and then realized the required interstellar history datapad had been left conveniently in his room. Dropping everything once again he dashed in to retrieve it; when he emerged Qui-Gon was standing next to the table, casually pocketing the holopic disk into the folds of his robe.  
  
He couldn't help it; maybe it was guilty conscience, but Obi-Wan's gaze went straight to the hand that was tucking the little holo-generator away, and he realized it almost at once and quickly dropped his eyes, suddenly making himself very busy tucking the retrieved datapad into his travel bag. From that one guilty look more than anything the Force could have told him, Jinn knew that Obi-Wan had seen the holo.  
  
"It's all right, Obi-Wan." Qui-Gon said quietly, and his apprentice's head snapped up to fix him with a look. "Curiosity is no crime against the Code, after all. And I did forget it was here."  
  
"Master, I…" The younger man started to apologize anyway, but his mentor shook his head a little. "Who is she?" The question was the next logical one, and he waited with uncharacteristic patience for Qui-Gon to answer him.  
  
When he did, his voice was laced with…regret? Pain certainly…long dulled by time and change but pain nonetheless and Obi-Wan instantly wished he had not pressed the issue, not desiring to hurt his Master by any stretch of the imagination.  
  
"She…was someone who taught me a great deal once." Qui-Gon lifted his gaze from where he'd taken up staring at the floor to meet his Padawan's earnest expression. "It's all right." He reassured again. It was enough comfort that, despite his reluctance to say more, drew out Obi- Wan's reason for asking.  
  
"She…she's the woman from my vision." Kenobi's voice was soft, trying to blunt the shock of surprise that he knew his master would feel at the words and indeed he could sense it along their bond, a ripple that could be described as a gasp of sorts.  
  
"That's quite impossible, Obi-Wan." Now Qui-Gon's voice took on a sharper edge, unintentionally but reflexively, covering an old wound that he had not intended his Padawan to ever see in him. "Now let's go; we have a half hour before the departure time set by the transport captain."  
  
Obi-Wan recognized it as his master closing the door on a topic he did not wish to discuss, but he felt as if the question was being dragged out of him and he had to ask it.  
  
"Why, Master?" Seeking to clarify as he started slowly toward the door, he repeated the question. "Why is it impossible?"  
  
Qui-Gon too felt as if the answer was being pulled from him, even as he closed his eyes and wished he didn't have to speak it aloud, even to the one person he might trust with it and all that in entailed.  
  
"Because, my Padawan, she's been dead for twenty years."


	9. Arrival

EIGHT  
  
Sleep seemed to elude him, even though it was exactly what he wanted at the moment. The journey to Bahreen, Force knew, was not the most thrilling passage in existence and there was no real cause for his unease. He reached into the depth of the Force, breathing in and out evenly.  
  
Yet here he was, still awake, unable to find enough of his center to slide into slumber.  
  
Qui-Gon rolled up into a sitting position, bringing up the lights and blinking a little as his eyes adjusted to the sudden glow. He exhaled softly and rubbed the back of his neck. He knew exactly why he was not sleeping. Twenty years had been enough to take the edge off, but apparently not enough of it to prevent him from practically snapping at his Padawan for no truly good reason. Somewhere inside of him he still felt her death, still remembered cold air and salty tears and a scar. His fingers automatically strayed to it; a fine line of disfigured flesh hidden by his beard.  
  
He owed his very life to her, his very existence and perhaps one day he would explain all that to his apprentice. Right now he knew he must find his center, anchor his thoughts in the Force, and listen to its whisper. For in a few short hours' time he and Obi-Wan would be walking on Bahreena soil.  
  
Just now, however, he knew he would not sleep. It would not be the first time Qui-Gon had carried on a mission despite exhaustion, trusting the Force to keep him alert and quite likely would not be the last. So it was that he found his way out of the cramped quarters of the ship out into the common area to sit with his Padawan.  
  
Obi-Wan's eyes were shut tightly in concentration and his lips were moving slightly as if reciting something. He was sprawled across a cushion on the floor; a rather un-Jedi-like position or at least not a terribly graceful one. His chin rested on his hands and both knees were bent, feet crossed in the air. In front of him were spread out several datapads and a cup of something. Qui-Gon reached into the Force, sharpening his senses to hear:  
  
"…known as the Battle of Iu. This resulted in the signing of the Treaty of…" Obi-Wan hesitated in his memorization, his brows tightening in a frown. "Li…Lor…oh sith!" Qui-Gon stifled a chuckle as he watched his Padawan mentally retrace his steps along the timeline he had just recited. "General Yvi and Master N'chhav…Battle of Iu…and Treaty of…" Obi-Wan's eyes flew open and he rested his gaze on his master as if he'd known that Qui-Gon had been there all along. "I'm never going to remember that." He remarked matter-of-factly, flopping over onto his back with a groan. "Master, how did you ever get past Advanced Interstellar History?"  
  
Qui-Gon did laugh now, and it brought a light to his eyes that had been missing since their last conversation back on Coruscant.  
  
"Much as you are now, young Padawan." He assured his apprentice. "Only I used to do my studying in the sparring round, swinging my saber while I walked." At Obi-Wan's amused expression, Qui-Gon merely shrugged. "I always thought better with my saber. And you're not far off from your answer. Who drafted the treaty after Iu?"  
  
Obi-Wan pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes, rubbing vigorously as he turned his mind back to his work.  
  
"Master N'chhav of course, and…" He groped for another name, trying to remember without consulting the datapad. "…Berie L…Lonore! The Treaty of Lonore!"

"Very good." Qui-Gon said approvingly, and Obi-Wan rolled back over onto his stomach again, tapping the pad to bring up the next outline and to pick up the nearby cup to drain the rest of its contents before scrambling up to his feet.  
  
"At this rate, Master, you'll never be rid of me. You'll never be able to cut this braid and you'll be the only Jedi Master in history with a forty year old Padawan."  
  
"Don't say that!"  
  
The sharpness of Qui-Gon's tone surprised both of them, and Obi-Wan's expression sobered quickly, the lighthearted smile vanishing. Qui-Gon reached up to rub his eyes a moment, knowing it was not his Padawan who was at fault but rather his own desire not to break his word. I'm sorry, Obi- Wan. He breathed into the bond, and he felt Obi-Wan hesitate to reply. I take my vow to you as your Master very seriously.  
  
Kenobi watched his mentor struggle for words and he knew instinctively that an explanation would fail him. He could tell that whatever was on his Master's mind was not open to discussion, but he could also feel the strong sense of faith in him Qui-Gon possessed.  
  
I know, Master. He replied easily, simply, as he had always been able to do. And then he smiled again, waving around the now empty cup. "There's some lurasei juice back here if you'd like. Somebody told them we were coming."  
  
"No…thank you. I think I've interrupted your studies long enough. I'll just…"  
  
Something very like a sharp intake of breath crashed into the bond and Qui-Gon looked up in time to see the cup that Obi-Wan had been holding drop to the deck with a sharp _crack_. He jumped up quickly, thinking at first the Jedi apprentice was experiencing another 'encounter' with the mysterious Force-sensitive.  
  
"I'm all right." Obi-Wan hastened to allay his master's concerns, bending down to retrieve the dropped cup. However it was with his left hand that he retrieved it; his right was tucked up surreptitiously into his sleeve. He placed the cup on the counter, and with his back to his master drew out his right hand, the hand that had been _holding_ the cup moments ago.  
  
His hand was shaking uncontrollably, almost as if it had a mind of its own, hell-bent to escape his arm or something. He was immediately grateful that the cup had been empty when the tremors started, else there could have been a small shower of liquid and quite likely…quarantine or something like it from his Master, banishing him to bed until their arrival. You worry too much, Master. He spoke calmly through the bond, and Qui-Gon merely raised an eyebrow.  
  
Have a care, my Padawan…perhaps it is you who worries too little.  
  
Flexing his fingers as the trembling ceased, Obi-Wan had to wonder just how much worrying he ought to be doing.  
  
++++++  
  
"There it is." The transport captain announced as the two Jedi stepped into the control cabin. "Bahreen. Not much to look at, is it?"  
  
"The Force is never strictly concerned with the outward appearance of any situation, place or person." Obi-Wan answered first, forthrightly, and Qui-Gon had to smile at his apprentice's degree of focus despite the younger man's initial misgivings about a mission of this kind.  
  
"Just so long as there's the appearance of a landing platform on the other side of this soup." The pilot was looking over the navigational readings he was receiving and shaking his head slightly. He wasn't a Jedi; he was not part of the Order at all but rather a hired pilot who had been assigned to them by the Council. His name was Kadath Ingly and he was Caldorian, the best description of which could be summed up as rude, crude, socially unacceptable--_and some of the galaxy's most exceptional pilots, right down to the very last man.  
  
"There will be a beacon." Qui-Gon said with certainty. "They're expecting us."  
  
_Expecting us_…  
  
It was as if the very words opened up a doorway and Obi-Wan, as curious as ever was compelled to "go" in.  
  
The vision was so real, he could have sworn he could reach out and touch her, long flowing hair nearly to her waist, those vivid eyes pleading after the same manner as they had been the first time he'd seen them. She stood there motionless, silent and Obi-Wan found himself staring, just as silent. It was almost as if his brain had forgotten how to speak. It was when she finally reached out a hand toward him that he found his voice.  
  
"Who are you?" He asked the most obvious question first. She opened her mouth to speak…  
  
He wasn't sure if there were words or not. A searing pain exploded across his consciousness, like a flash of light behind his eyes and even as he instinctively closed them he could still see the white-hot flare as whatever it was she was trying to communicate slammed into him like a solid wall of brick. She was still speaking, her lips still moving, her attempt at contact buffeting him in the Force like physical slaps, hard enough to see stars.  
  
Obi-Wan struggled to focus, to narrow his perception down to the words she was saying but the power involved was just too great for him to overcome. He stretched out a trembling hand, as if to seize her by the arm. "No…please…" He couldn't even beg for her to stop; it just rolled over him in a long unbroken wave until he crumbled to his knees, unable to think or speak or stand against it any longer.  
  
"Obi-Wan? Obi-Wan, wake up."  
  
Qui-Gon's quiet, persistent, worried voice flooded his consciousness, replacing the siren call in the Force with calm. Latching onto it, Obi-Wan dragged himself up into awareness, his eyelids fluttering open hesitantly. It was bright, and it hurt and he slammed them closed again, eyelids scrunching tightly closed. A moment later he felt a hand on his forehead, likely Qui-Gon, and he reluctantly opened his eyes again.  
  
He was lying flat on his back; the deckplates feeling deliciously cool even through his robes, which clung wetly against trembling, sweating flesh. The back of his throat was raw, as if he'd been screaming for hours without rest or water and every muscle in his body ached as if he'd been put through a monthss worth of training in the span of a few short hours. His breath was coming in shivery gasps, and as he focused on Qui-Gon's face he could see the concern radiating from the older Jedi's expression.  
  
"How…long?" His voice sounded almost foreign to him and he struggled to sit up. Qui-Gon shifted a little, moving to assist him in the effort.  
  
"Little over fifteen minutes." Qui-Gon replied. Obi-Wan's eyes widened perceptibly.  
  
"That's _it_?" He said incredulously. Qui-Gon inclined his head slightly.  
  
"Longer than the first time." His tone was full of care and caution. Obi-Wan moved to try to get his legs under him, and Qui-Gon again came to his aid. "Easy…" He instructed. "Slowly." Together they got him up, standing shakily. "You're trembling."  
  
"Just…a little tired Master." Obi-Wan assured, taking a few halting steps toward the nearest repulsor chair. "Where's Captain Ingly?"  
  
"Gone to inform the House Master of our arrival and to apologize for our delay in greeting him."  
  
"I'm sorry, Master…" Obi-Wan made to get up from the chair immediately, but Qui-Gon's steady hand on his shoulder convinced him to stay put.  
  
"Wait a little." He said firmly. "A few more minutes will not harm what we do here. Captain Ingly's message on our behalf should suffice."  
  
"A Caldorian on a diplomatic mission…someone has a unique sense of humor, Master."  
  
"I have faith that my message will be delivered as requested." Qui- Gon replied; heartened to see his Padawan had not lost his good humor despite the demands being made of his body and mind. He brought a cup of water and Obi-Wan accepted it with both hands, a slight tremor remaining in them. With some effort, Obi-Wan stilled them and sipped appreciatively at the cool liquid, allowing it to bathe his aching throat.  
  
"She tried to tell me something." He spoke more easily now, and he looked up at Qui-Gon. Jinn nodded; even though the Force-signature as before had been focused totally upon his apprentice, he'd had a strong sense of it being a different _kind_ of contact, a sense of urgency that had not been present before. Like a residual, it fragranced the immediate Force-aura around Obi-Wan with a desperation of sorts. "I couldn't filter out enough to understand…"  
  
"It's all right, Obi-Wan." He soothed. "We'll solve this mystery I promise you." Blue eyes looked down affectionately at blue-grey ones, an inherent apology despite none really being needed. "Think you're ready?"  
  
"Yes Master." Kenobi rose, almost too quickly and wavered a moment on unsteady feet. Then he smiled at his mentor and preceded him from the control cabin._


	10. Ruler Of The House Inais

NINE  
  
Bahreen was a world of contrasts. Its cities boasted graceful architecture yet a simple economy. Its ecology was incredibly beautiful but also incredibly dangerous; the cities were pockets of habitation in the midst of fire-forests and sand-swamps.  
  
Its people were a study in contrasts as well. They were an elegant race, humanoid, pale skinned, and fair of voice, cultured. Yet they were a society bound heavily in tradition, including their government, a collection of "Houses;" basically clan leadership. In this they had not changed in over seven centuries.  
  
As they disembarked from the Caldorian vessel, both Jedi took in their surroundings in a practiced sweep, taking note of everything, instinctively reaching out with the Force to establish their situation. At the foot of the ramp awaited a tall, slender Bahreena female, her eyes luminously orange and next to her was a shorter Bahreena male. Both were dressed in the clothing of a House page, the highest ranking servant of the clan.  
  
Upon reaching the bottom of the ramp, the two servants silently guided them to a nearby transport, an older model airspeeder that had been meticulously maintained. Taking the controls, the female darted off through the spaceport and on through the city. There was no true capital as such on Bahreen, but the leading House was here in the city of Khuta En. Their first stop as Jedi would be here, both to observe the protocols of the Bahreena and to establish their presence here for the mission at hand.  
  
No one spoke; outspoken servants were considered a bad reflection on the House they served and so therefore rarely engaged in idle conversation. As each of the Jedi were wrapped up in their own thoughts much like the robes they wore, it was a very quiet ride into the interior, and then beyond, to the outskirts of the city.  
  
The building itself was formidable; a tall, broad structure lending itself to the idea of a mansion, although perhaps on a _slightly smaller scale. The grounds were meticulous, and the path from the speeder to the house was lined with sweetly-scented petals, a gracious welcome to the guests from Coruscant.  
  
Obi-Wan followed his master at a discreet pace behind, a show of respect among a people for whom respect and honor were a way of life. Most clansman-based peoples were like that, not unlike the Jedi in that way.  
  
A tall, regal looking Bahreena gentleman came striding out toward the speeder and he was flanked by two young, rather excited looking children.  
  
"Is that them, Dajo?" One of them whispered in awe. The man did not answer but continued his approach of the two robed figures coming to greet him.  
  
Stopping just paces of each other, Qui-Gon bowed deeply, as was the Jedi tradition of honor, and Obi-Wan followed suit, both men straightening in tandem.  
  
"Ketero v'ndi roeh nuh." (Peace on the Ruler of this House.) Qui- Gon's traditional greeting, delivered in Old Bahreeni rather than Basic and in an almost melodic tone took both their host and Obi-Wan quite by surprise. Both sets of eyes were riveted on the Jedi Master. "San Jotar Qui-Gon Jinn." A smaller bow. "San Kesh Obi-Wan Kenobi." Following his master's lead, Obi-Wan inclined his head a second time. Their host smiled broadly.  
  
"It is rare enough, Master Jedi, to hear my own people speak in the language of their fathers. To hear it so beautifully spoken by an outworlder honors my House and is a great credit to you."  
  
"Bash tai." Qui-Gon responded, thanking him. "We are grateful for the kindred relationship the Bahreena have maintained with the Jedi over the years."  
  
"I am Touko, Ruler of the House Inais. Welcome to my home and my people." The man glanced down at the children standing nervously at his side. "This is my daughter Inais Le and my son, Inais Kor.'  
  
"You're really Jedi?" The children chorused almost as one, their eyes round. Qui-Gon chuckled softly, and nodded in the affirmative. The walk back to the house was punctuated by curious questions and several 'but my friend says Jedi are…' type of statements. For a planet ripe with Force- sensitives, these young ones seemed to know very little about the very Order that some of their friends would soon join. Obi-Wan smiled mirthfully as Qui-Gon patiently fielded the questions, some of them reminding him of his young days as an Initiate at the Temple, wanting to know everything, hardly ready to know anything.  
  
"Come now, Kor…Le. Go on to your studies and leave our guests in peace for the time being." The children ran off, rounded up by their tutor, the female page who'd driven the speeder. "I apologize for that, Master Jedi. My children are curious about _everything_ and they feel compelled to ask the nearest person who might have the answer."  
  
"Curiosity is no crime, Roeh Inais Touko." Qui-Gon addressed his host formally, the traditional title of 'Roeh' or Ruler, followed by the surname and finally the given name. Obi-Wan frowned slightly to himself. There was an ease of speaking the unfamiliar language that suggested either some form of Force-knowledge or…or Qui-Gon Jinn had been here before. "It is often the curious who discover their deepest potential in the Force. Your daughter, for instance, has a strong Force aura."  
  
"My daughter…" Touko replied smoothly and evenly, "…as eldest child will be Head of this House when I am gone. Sensitive or not, her place is here serving her people."  
  
"No offense intended, Roeh."  
  
"None taken. Now I'm sure you two would like a chance to rest from your long journey before the others arrive."  The slender head of the lead House of Bahreen gestured to the tall staircase that wound up from the left, and the two Jedi followed him. The room prepared for them was perfectly laid out, and Qui-Gon inclined his head again.  
  
"You honor us with your kindness, Roeh."  
  
"I will send Asvhi to tend to your needs."  
  
As soon as the door had closed behind them, Obi-Wan released a breath he'd forgotten he was holding.  
  
"Master…" He breathed out.  
  
"I sense it too. Be mindful of the Living Force." Qui-Gon instructed. "I feel that we're going to know what this disturbance is before very long."  
  
"Yes Master."  
  
"Try to get some rest; I'm sure this first night will be a late one; a House reception is no small matter."  
  
Obi-Wan nodded obediently, and turned toward the nearest sleep couch.  
  
++++  
  
"A reception for our honored Jedi in the House Inais." Nacena mused thoughtfully. She had personally been nearby to watch the Jedi disembark from the less-than-impressive (she thought anyway) Caldorian vessel, but it was Yhriel that had been sent to discover the Knights' final destination. Stood to reason it would be Inais; they were the largest House on Bahreen and quite often the most intelligent as well. "How long has it been since we've attended one of those?"  
  
Yhriel was loathe to answer the question honestly; it brought up too many bad memories when he did.  
  
"I suppose, Mistress, that it has been quite some time."  
  
Nacena smiled to herself. Uncanny self-preservation skills that one had.  
  
"Well I think it's about time we did something about that."_


	11. The Padawan Of The Jedi QuiGon Jinn

TEN  
  
Qui-Gon glanced over at the small rustle of movement, watching as his Padawan turned over fitfully in his sleep, one hand falling to trail closely to the floor, fingers curled loosely. The blanket was off him totally now, and his padawan's braid fell from his shoulder to dangle as well. He frowned a little; Obi-Wan's sleep had hardly been restful as intended.  
  
_Like Master, like Padawan_. He reflected bleakly. He hadn't even attempted to sleep again himself, his mind occupied with the many things placed before it, his Padawan's recent disturbing experiences and their ill effects not the least of them.  
  
However as he'd stated to Obi-Wan earlier, he had also been aware of a new factor, a disturbance in the Force that was elusive yet dark. Dark enough to interfere momentarily with Qui-Gon's sense of the moment; which was a rare thing indeed. Unlike his apprentice, who seemed to be finely attuned to the Unifying Force and sensitive to its nudges of the future or even the past, Qui-Gon Jinn had always been sharply defined in his Jedi skills by the Living Force, its deep thrum in the life around him directing his choices. This…dark presence had carried with it an implicit future threat; although what exactly that threat was he could not say just yet.  
  
Obi-Wan murmured something unintelligible in his sleep, drawing Qui- Gon's attention yet again. The hand that hung from the edge of the sleep couch tightened briefly then loosened again. The Jedi Master watched a moment longer until he was certain the younger man was still indeed asleep, his thoughts drawing him to wonder if there was some sort of connection between this dark touch and Obi-Wan's recent encounters. Still…the one thing Obi-Wan had been truly able to describe to him made him think they were two separate, distinctly different issues. Withdrawing the holopic generator from his tunic, he flicked it on and watched her face appear. _She…she's the woman from my vision_…  
  
_He doesn't even remember you, but yet he sees you in his dreams_. Qui-Gon thought wistfully. Snapping off the small unit, he replaced it inside the folds of his tunic…and felt a strong impulse from the Force. Closing his eyes, he sought out his center, settling down to listen to whatever guidance he might receive for the problems at hand.  
  
_"You…want to take me as your apprentice?" Obi-Wan's eyes widened. In all his time as an initiate he had never dreamed that the respected Master Qui-Gon Jinn had even taken notice of him, much less desired the responsibility of taking him on as Padawan. He was nearly fourteen now, past the "usual" age of apprenticeship, but that had been more Qui-Gon's doing than Kenobi's. Unbeknownst to the youngster he had been established early on as Qui-Gon's responsibility with the Council although that had never been spoken to Obi-Wan, and therefore no other Knight had taken him as their Padawan.  
  
Qui-Gon merely nodded his head; they were about to approach the Council, and this was not a time for many words. Obi-Wan hunched his shoulders once; he had only been before the Council twice, once at his testing for training at age three and once at his formal Initiation not quite a year later. Now he was about to face them again, this time to apprentice himself to Master Qui-Gon.  
  
The doors before them were opened, and Qui-Gon motioned for the younger man to precede him inside. Taking a deep breath, Obi-Wan Kenobi squared his shoulders, exhaled into the calm of the Force, and walked into the Council's audience chamber._  
  
The memory flashed within Qui-Gon's mind like a saber cutting through the weave of time itself. Jinn turned abruptly to look at his Padawan- learner, almost as if to reassure himself that he still indeed _had_ an apprentice. Obi-Wan still slept; although slightly curled up on his side now, wrapped oddly around his pillows and his braid hanging right in his face. Qui-Gon closed his eyes momentarily, feeling the tiredness creeping up on him.  
  
"Eight years…" He murmured softly.  
  
"Eight…years, Master?"  
  
Qui-Gon's eyes snapped open to find his apprentice raising his head sleepily from the pillows, looking ill at ease and a little disoriented.  
  
"Mmm. Eight years ago you became my Padawan." He stood up, intending to prepare for their formal welcome by the House that was due to begin in a little under two hours' time now. "The charge to train you has not been in vain."  
  
Obi-Wan smiled outright at that; it was spare praise but a high compliment, coming from Master Qui-Gon. The smile, however, was short- lived; it was quickly replaced by a curious frown.  
  
"What brings this to mind?" He asked, pushing himself up into a sitting position on the sleep couch now, rubbing at eyes that felt like sandpaper.  
  
"The Force, but for what purpose, young Padawan, I am not certain." Qui-Gon turned the sudden Force-flash of memory over in his mind. It had not been unlike future casting in its sensation; the ripple of the Force through time was as constant as ever. But instead of probing the mystery of the future, the Force had brought him a crystal-clear reminder of the past. Why that should be, I haven't an idea. Almost instantly, Qui-Gon smiled to himself that Yoda was always saying that in the Force, there was no "why." He would have his answers soon enough. However brief, the thread of memory from the Unifying Force took up a back seat in his mind, close at hand but not receiving his full focus as the present moment in the Living Force tickled his consciousness with awareness. "It is nearly time for us to present ourselves to the House Inais and her guests." Qui-Gon motioned vaguely to his disheveled Padawan. "You'd better make yourself a bit more presentable than that."  
  
"Yes, Master." Obi-Wan yawned tiredly, suddenly wishing for a little more time to stay on the sleep couch. Not a very likely occurrence. He got to his feet and headed for the 'fresher, wanting nothing more than to dunk his ginger-haired head under the water and soak himself for awhile.  
  
Abruptly his knees gave way and he staggered a step, catching himself on the edge of a nearby table awkwardly, grabbing it for support as an uncontrolled shiver shot straight through him, making his hands shake and his breath come in a startled gasp. At once Qui-Gon was on his feet, coming to his aid and steadying him.  
  
"What is it?" He asked. Obi-Wan looked up at him now as his trembling stopped and he could straighten to full height.  
  
"It's not…It's gone."  
  
Qui-Gon's eyes narrowed slightly; even though the brunt of it had passed, he noticed that Obi-Wan's right hand continued to tremble. Time to contact Obuk back on Coruscant, he decided grimly as he watched his Padawan regain his composure and head back toward the 'fresher to prepare for the evening.  
  
And still the Living Force tingled in his mind with the warning of darkness rising…  
  
Obi-Wan felt it too. Like a black fingerprint pressing against the current landscape of his thoughts. He turned on the water and waited for it to be at "Force, that's hot!" level before allowing it access to his tired body. Thankfully it was also strong, pummeling his sore shoulders and back with a rhythm that was at once soothing and relaxing, even as his mind restlessly roamed around. Tilting his head, he felt the water rush over his cropped spiky ginger locks, nearly strong enough to undo the braid that hung wetly over his back.  
  
His eyes open as water streamed past his face, he looked at he hands pressed against the wall. His right one continued to shake, the muscle spasms persisting beneath the massage of hot water and he pursed his lips tightly. Obi-Wan struggled to control it; he knew Master Qui-Gon was extremely worried about him. And yet he also felt that there was something looming, bigger than this mission that would require him to be at his master's side. He couldn't afford to allow himself to be sidelined while Qui-Gon faced this danger alone. No, he had to be here. And ready.  
  
Some minutes later he was finished and clothed in a fresh tunic and pants, barefoot and rapidly re-plaiting the somewhat water-abused braid when another train of thought began to carry him along. One that centered on his Master and the thick robe of the past that seemed to be blanketing him, something unusual for a Jedi whose constant admonition to Kenobi was to "keep your mind on the here and now." He had the uncanny sensation that his Master had been here once before, and realized with a certain embarrassment that he was intensely curious about it.  
  
When Obi-Wan stepped out of the 'fresher, he found his Master awaiting him, pulling on the brown outer robe and he hurried to dress his feet and follow suit, pushing aside his own concerns to focus himself on the mission at hand, to center himself as his master had taught him and to listen to the Living Force.  
  
A small handed knock at the door informed them that their presence was now requested, and so it was that Master and Padawan, hooded and alert followed after their guide to the welcome of their hosts.  
  
++++++  
  
"I told you to return to Coruscant." An ominously deep voice chastised her over the holo-link, and Nacena had to control herself from shrugging rebelliously. For all his sway over her, he had not fully broken her independence and somehow she knew she needed to keep that for a little longer at least. At least until she had fully dealt with Qui-Gon Jinn that is.  
  
"I know, my Master." She replied, keeping her voice properly respectful. "But you also told me to mind my duties and they have taken me to the border world of Bahreen." The disgust in her master's expression, even hooded, hidden and holographically displayed, was clearly seen.  
  
"Bahreen is the sister world to the Jedi, the one place where they are welcome without disdain or mistrust."  
  
"I promise, my master that will not be so for long." She promised, licking her lips tantalizingly, knowing that he would not refuse her the chance to throw the Jedi into further disarray. "Would that not help further your designs?"  
  
"It would." Her master's hooded head bobbed once in affirmation. "I give you three days' leave to accomplish your purposes on Bahreen. Who is the Jedi you have chosen?"  
  
Nacena smiled serenely, her eyes somehow both beautiful and malevolent in the same instant.  
  
"The Padawan of the Jedi Qui-Gon Jinn."  
  
"Excellent!" Darth Sidious actually almost smiled now. For he knew, as she did that if one could be destroyed, so would the other, and the repercussions would most definitely be felt throughout the Jedi Order. "You may proceed."


	12. Black Force

ELEVEN  
  
The House Inais was brilliantly lit from within and without, celebration lights hanging throughout the gardens and in every alcove, scented tapers and sparkling pattern lights in hallways or side rooms. The Grand Hall itself, which was little more than a ballroom, really, had been transformed into a glorious riot of color, light, and music. The Bahreena were nothing if not aesthetic, and their arts reflected that graciousness.  
  
Obi-Wan clenched and unclenched his hand beneath the sweeping sleeve of his robe. It continued to twitch although the trembling had slowed considerably. From beneath the hood of his robe he took in everything; his master's measured paces to his left, the glow-torch carried by the page, the narrowness of the hallway and the smell of more of those scented petals that now graced the entryway.  
  
Qui-Gon set a quick pace, but Obi-Wan kept in step with him as they strode along behind their guide. There was a sense of urgency in the air, almost a palpable pulse in the Force. A quick glance at his master told Obi-Wan that Qui-Gon felt it too.  
  
"Strange, isn't it?" He said quietly, looking briefly to his left. Qui-Gon spared him a glance as their rapid steps covered the distance toward the large doors at the far end of the passageway.  
  
"No stranger than any ripple in the Force. The Force is never to be regarded as an oddity, Obi-Wan. It and everything in it is as natural as the air we breathe and the blood that flows in our veins. Even a death felt is part of the _Living Force."  
  
"I understand, Master." Kenobi answered, resolving to pay more attention to the living pulse and make it his own. Qui-Gon watched the slight changes in his apprentice's expression that marked the transition from lesson to truth.  
  
"That said," Jinn continued with a slight inclination of his head, "there does seem to be a strong sense in the Force…a warning. I've felt it getting stronger. Stay alert."  
  
"I will."  
  
For Qui-Gon, it was almost like deja-vu, walking a hallway not unlike this one to be announced to a House of Bahreen. Only then, __she had been at his side, unaware of what was to come. Indeed, neither of them could have known…  
  
The page reached the doorway and two more of the household servants--internal guards it looked like--swung wide the doors and they were ushered into the Great Hall. The entrance was actually on the second floor; a great staircase stretched out before them, stopping just shy of the expanse of polished dance floor. An instant hush fell over the comfortably filled room, as nearly a hundred pairs of eyes focused in on the threesome standing a floor above them. A corridor was made for them as the guests parted, creating a passage that led up to a small dais on the other end of the room.  
  
The page stepped forward and called out over the gathered guests in a strong voice,  
  
"Ketero v'ndi chah!" (Peace on you all!) At this the entire floor erupted in a single mass voice,  
  
"Ketero san vei!" (Peace is with us!)  
  
The page switched to Basic standard, in deference to their honored guests in spite of the formal occasion.  
  
"I give good greeting to you in the name of the Roeh of the House Inais! From time past remembering, the people of our Houses have been kin to the keepers of our peace, the honorable Jotar…the Jedi Knights. We are favored this night by honored guests from the Jedi Temple on Coruscant." Qui-Gon bowed deeply and Obi-Wan followed his lead. Both Jedi pulled back their hoods now to reveal their faces fully, and a polite applause scattered throughout the room; mainly because they knew the page was not yet finished speaking. "We have gathered this night to make our honored friends welcome in this House and to aid the Jedi once more in the care of their Order. Give good greeting to Master Qui-Gon Jinn and his Learner, Obi-Wan Kenobi."  
  
Now there was a louder, more sustained greeting, many of them calling out the now familiar, "Peace be on you" as they now walked down the steps. Qui-Gon returned it many times to those around him, and Obi-Wan picked it up as well, although the first few attempts at pronunciation were a little mangled.  
  
Accent on the last syllable, Obi-Wan. Qui-Gon suggested through the bond. Let it roll off your tongue, very fluid, not harsh. Obi-Wan tried again, giving the greeting to a boy who looked to be about ten, and was pleased when the child didn't laugh at his efforts but instead returned the greeting with all the seriousness he could muster. Very good, that's much better.  
  
The people gathered drew a little closer now, so that the path they had cleared to the dais was slightly narrower than it had been, many of them still calling out the greeting of peace. Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan reached the dais upon which was standing Roeh Inais along with his wife and two children. The Jedi bowed once again, and Obi-Wan fought to still the trembling of his hand as he clasped them in front of himself, left hand crossed over right wrist.  
  
"Good greeting, Master Jedi." Touko spoke in Basic as well. "We are honored to have you and your Padawan." Now Touko bowed, a sweeping graceful thing, and he motioned to his wife. "This is my life-mate, Cherida and you have already met my children. Now let the hospitality of this House be yours." The greeting was spoken quietly, privately, and graciously. Then Touko waved his hand generously to his guests. "Let the celebrations begin!"  
  
His call was instantly responded to with a long, loud cheer and then the music began to play.  
  
It is a party; that is for certain. Qui-Gon's tone was amused.  
  
A black chill stole over Obi-Wan briefly, however and he spared his master a sharp, questioning glance. There on the dais they were still central objects of attention, surpassed only by the Ruler and his family themselves. But it was unmistakable; there was a dark presence here…in this very room.  
  
Qui-Gon did not return his Padawan's look; he was already scanning the room with his eyes and with the Force, trying to feel out from whom the dark wall of hatred had come. Obi-Wan, at once understanding also turned his eyes toward the gathered Bahreena; he stretched out through the Force, briefly brushing against minds as carefully and casually as possible so as not to arouse suspicion. Some of the Bahreena, he knew, were almost adept- level sensitives and would not appreciate such a probing, honored Jedi or not.  
  
Suddenly, almost like a power cord being yanked from its source, the darkness faded and Obi-Wan blinked a little, his single-minded search abruptly cut off. He gave his master another look, and there was a nearly imperceptible shrug from Qui-Gon as if to say he hadn't been any more successful than his apprentice.  
  
It _was_ here, Master. He found himself thinking, almost as if to convince himself rather than Qui-Gon. To his relief, his mentor nodded curtly once, an expression of dissatisfaction darting over his features ever so slightly.  
  
Be mindful, Obi-Wan. Qui-Gon admonished, knowing that should there be trouble here, it could spell certain disaster for the Jedi Order. Bahreen was one of the few worlds whose people still produced Force- sensitive offspring in the kind of numbers that ensured the continuation of the Jedi way of life. The continuation of keeping the peace for a galaxy sorely needing it…Qui-Gon looked out over the crowd, his intense gaze still searching for anything unusual. They could not afford to be taken by surprise.  
  
++++++  
  
From her place she watched them. They were unassuming looking men, truly, but formidable in their Jedi robes and serious expressions. And one could not miss the hilts of lightsabers dangling casually at their waists. It was truly a welcome for them; a celebration of the likes she had not seen in quite awhile. Not since…the fall of the great House. The master, Qui-Gon Jinn, had an intelligent air about him, perceptive, attentive. Even now, when he was being greeted as a guest and bade to enjoy the pleasures of the celebration, he was all Jedi Knight; wary, and alert. Watching for danger that could leap out of anywhere…or anyone. She turned her attention to the shorter one standing at his side, undoubtedly his apprentice, barely more than a boy by a few years, youthful and exuberant, open and honest. He too appeared to be concentrating, and a feathered finger brushed past his mind told her that he was very concerned. At last, he understood evil was standing nearby, and she couldn't help but smile a little triumphantly.  
  
++++++  
  
"Master Jedi." Qui-Gon looked to his right to see Inais Cherida standing there, a gracious-looking woman by any race's standards. Her smile was genuine and she was more than ready to do her part for the celebration. "The Hopefuls are here…I realize that the selections will not begin until tomorrow, but we thought that it would only be proper for their households to give their respects to you and your apprentice."  
  
"Peace be on you, Mistress Inais." Qui-Gon answered in a kindly tone. "We would be most pleased to meet the candidates and their families."  
  
On the main floor, several of the Bahreena were performing an ancient, traditional dance, and its very rhythm blended with the music and lent an air of joy to the festivities. Young and old together lifted up their voices in song, encouraging the dancers to continue their fluid display. Cherida skirted the edge of the crowd, leading the two Jedi from the dais and over to the near corner of the room, where a small knot of Bahreena awaited them. Without exception, each adult or pair were accompanied by young children. A few of them, Obi-Wan knew immediately would be too old for the training, too many memories already imprinted upon their young minds that would interfere with the ways of the Order. Some of them were mere babies, months old but already possessing a Force-signature strong enough to be considered for selection. And there were several toddlers, wide-eyed and curious, fingers in their mouths and unabashedly probing the approaching Jedi with their Force-enhanced curiosity, not yet having learned the subtle art of control.  
  
It was one of these, a young girl with a mop of thick auburn curls that caught Qui-Gon's attention first. Her eyes were as blue as the sea in a slightly pale face, displaying an openness that could easily be formed to the will of the Force. He glanced up at her parents, seeing the normal expressions of pride and concern and wistful worry. They would miss this young one, he knew but they would also be marked among their people as a household deserving honor for her service to the Jedi.  
  
"Peace to you." Qui-Gon said to them, and they both deferentially bowed their heads, watching silently as the tall Jedi master knelt down so that he was nearly at eye-level with their daughter. "And…" Jinn chuckled slightly. "…Peace to _you_, little one."  
  
"Dajo!" The child exclaimed happily, the traditional Bahreena word for 'papa.' Often Bahreena padawans would address their masters as "dajo;" it was a symbol both of their loyalty and their honor for their mentors. It was a title rarely refused even by the Council because of its rich tradition.  
  
"What is her name?" Qui-Gon asked, not taking his gaze from the child's face. Her mother spoke first, and he heard the small quiver in her voice.  
  
"Avria."  
  
"One day," Qui-Gon assured her, "you will hear your daughter's name being spoken of as a Jedi Knight. I sense she is more than capable to receive the training."  
  
"Master Jedi!" The father now spoke, his voice tinged with pride and sadness and curiosity. "I thought the selections were not to begin until morning."  
  
"They aren't." Jinn confirmed as he rose to his feet. "But I have a strong feeling about this one." He ruffled the soft reddish curls. They took their time, greeting the families, gathering initial impressions of the children, talking to some of the older ones about the journey their younger siblings were about to take. The entire time, however, both Jedi remained attentive, bright eyes scanning the area from time to time.  
  
"MASTER!" Obi-Wan shouted, suddenly wheeling around, one hand pulling his lightsaber free.  
  
It was only a slight, warning nudge they received before a powerful rolling wave of fear crashed down over the assemblage, pushed along by a dark hand. There was no discernable reason for it save the dark force behind it alone. For the Bahreena, innocent of the ways of the Dark Side, it was sheer terror they knew not how to fight off.  
  
Panic ensued, people running in all directions, seeking to escape a danger that quite simply didn't exist. Or, well, not as they thought it did anyway. Qui-Gon knew it was useless in such a panic to try to shout above the noise, Force-assisted or not, and so made no move to stand in anyone's way as they rushed past him. The first priorities were to get the family of the House and the Hopefuls to safety and to ascertain the identity of the dark one.  
  
"Obi-Wan!" Qui-Gon shouted as he turned toward the dais. "Take the children! Get them out of here!"  
  
Fighting down the sense of panic that was even now reaching out toward them, pushing his way into the Force, Obi-Wan tried to get the small band of Hopefuls and their families to safety, but it was harder than expected, even with Force-planted suggestions of calm and relaxation. Qui- Gon meanwhile leapt up onto the dais, intending to get the Roeh and his family to safety.  
  
Obi-Wan felt her rather than saw her first. There was no mistaking the familiar sweep of her Force signature…his hand began to tremble violently again as he frantically handed over the child he'd swept up into his arms to his mother.  
  
"Go now!" He said forcefully, and still terrified the young families scattered down the far hallway. Not quite how he or Qui-Gon had envisioned protecting them, he was sure. He slewed around sharply, saber ignited but wavering in his unsteady hands. The crowds were beginning to thin out some now; their panicked rush having taken most of them from the building.  
  
She was standing nearly in the middle of the room, her hands outstretched as if calling something to her, but nothing materialized there. When she looked at Obi-Wan her eyes were just as in his vision, haunted, frightened. And she looked exactly like Qui-Gon's holopic.  
  
DANGER!  
  
Her voice inside his head staggered him; it was apparent that she had no control over the power of her projections. Obi-Wan reeled a bit, saber blade dipping sharply. He was unable to control his shields; as before her immense presence flooded them…  
  
…this time filtering back sharply along the training bond with Qui- Gon.  
  
Jinn turned hard on his heel, the Roeh in the hands of his household guards, in time to see Obi-Wan go down on one knee, obviously overwhelmed. Qui-Gon jumped down from the dais, saber ignited to face the threat to his Padawan…  
  
…and froze momentarily in mid-stride.  
  
It was almost as if she'd never left his side all those years ago, her face and eyes and shape of her lips the same. Stunned, he opened his mouth to speak, but she spoke first, her voice the same as he remembered.  
  
"The children!" She said urgently. "Don't let them take…the children."  
  
Obi-Wan struggled to his feet, the echo of her Force-shouted warning still pounding through his skull like a maddened gundark. Before either Jedi could move however there was another black wave of dark power; and then a scream could be heard from the hallway down which the ruling household of Inais had fled.  
  
"Master, go!" Obi-Wan urged. "I'll get the children." He looked at his vision for a moment, now flesh and blood, and then raced off back the way he'd come. Qui-Gon too hesitated just a moment longer before darting off around the dais and into the hallway beyond to protect their hosts.  
  
++++++  
  
They were separated, just as she'd intended. Nacena didn't need to be right in the Hall itself to know that Yhriel had done her bidding in drawing the master away from the apprentice. Inais Cherida's scream was enough to know that even without the Force. She could sense the Padawan racing off the narrow corridor to gather the candidates for the Jedi Temple and their families to safety.  
  
Like a sinewy shadow of death on the hunt, she slipped into the same corridor from the side passage she had been waiting in and followed after the young Jedi.  
  
++++++  
  
It was happening just as in her vision…she knew that the one she had drawn to her side was in terrible danger. She'd known that quite likely he would not be strong enough to bear her, but she'd also known that fate had chosen him for something great. And now… the Black One was after him.  
  
His teacher was out of sight, and no one else was left to come to the apprentice's aid. Moving as quickly as she dared, she headed off down the passageway in pursuit of both him…and the Black One.  
  
When she found them, the murderous intent of the dark robed figure facing the padawan was clear. Clearer still to her was the fact that he was in no condition to fight it off, despite his standing ready with his saber in shaking hands. He was ready, she could sense, to give his life if necessary to protect the people huddled behind him. So it was that she did the only thing she could do…  
  
++++++  
  
Qui-Gon hustled the small family into an anteroom, one that was relatively secluded and easily guarded.  
  
"Stay here." He said firmly. "And don't go anywhere until I return for you. Understand?"  
  
"Yes, Master Jedi." Inais Touko responded instantly.  
  
He closed the door behind him, the house guards taking up position on both sides and Qui-Gon rushed to find his Padawan.  
  
When he arrived in the small cul-de-sac in which Obi-Wan had taken his stand, there was no sign of either darkness or the Force-adept girl who had been calling out to his apprentice. The only sight that met his eyes was the children, standing in a ring.  
  
A ring encircling a fallen form…  
  
Dropped lightsaber.  
  
Brown robe.  
  
"Obi-Wan…"_


	13. FaithAnd Darkness

TWELVE  
  
"Any change?"  
  
Inais Cherida's soft voice brought Qui-Gon out of his reverie and he raised his head to gaze at her from where he was sitting. His blue eyes spoke before his voice did, giving the answer to her question in their expressive depths.  
  
"None. It's as simply as if he's…stepped outside and closed the door." Qui-Gon tried to describe the feeling as he shifted back to gaze upon the bed in front of him and its silent, motionless occupant.  
  
It had been nearly ten hours since Obi-Wan had been placed in that bed, and there had been no movement, no flicker of response in that time. Qui-Gon had barely eaten, refused to sleep as he kept watch over his Padawan. He knew that precious time was escaping from him in the matter of the Dark Side's practitioner here, but he dared not leave Obi-Wan's side until he either awakened or Healer Obuk arrived, whichever came first. He'd summoned his old friend from Coruscant as soon as the unconscious apprentice had been settled here in private chambers, attended nominally by the House physician and watched closely by his master.  
  
In his mind's eye, Qui-Gon replayed the awful moment of discovery, of coming to a sudden halt upon seeing the young Jedi lying lifeless on the floor, deactivated lightsaber only inches away and surrounded by the children, the Hopefuls. Feeling the sudden tight squeeze in his chest, instinctively knowing that this time Obi-Wan was seriously injured. Three of the children moved aside for him silently as he approached, quickly kneeling down beside his apprentice. To his utter amazement, one of the young ones, a three year old from the looks of it, was sitting beside Obi- Wan with her small hand on his chest, and in the Force Qui-Gon could feel the undisciplined, rudimentary attempts of the child to help him. The sensation was akin to that of hearing a small cry aloud for Obi-Wan to wake up but the compassion present in one so young was what made Qui-Gon swallow a sudden lump in his throat. Looking up at the Jedi Master, her eyes wide and wonderful and serious, she'd simply said,  
  
"Hurt."  
  
Qui-Gon had felt an icy stab of concern; was his Padawan in pain? The distraction of the child had only been a brief moment, but enough that Qui-Gon chastised himself. Quickly he'd pressed his fingers to Obi-Wan's neck, seeking a pulse; at the same moment he reached out into the bond to assess what he could of his Padawan's injuries. What he found both pleased and dismayed him at the same time. Pleased to feel the apprentice's heartbeat throbbing beneath his fingertips, albeit a little erratically and dismayed to find that once more, the bond seemed to have been shut down so completely that Qui-Gon could not even sense his apprentice's lifeforce. It was in worrisome, puzzling, direct contrast to the evidence of life that beat out its irregular rhythm beneath the light pressure of his fingers.  
  
As of this moment ten hours later, Qui-Gon thought somberly, that had not changed at all. Obi-Wan was close at hand's touch, yet was unbearably beyond his reach, and that more than anything else troubled the Jedi Master. A broken body could be rescued often much easier than a broken mind or spirit; in Obi-Wan's case the body was relatively unharmed but who knew what sort of duress he'd been placed under at the hands of this wielder of evil... As he had countless times before, Qui-Gon reached out his hand and rested it gently on Obi-Wan's forehead, hoping somehow that wherever the apprentice was, he could sense his master's care and concern.  
  
"We must have faith," Cherida's voice was soft and lilting, lending her words the air of something wonderful and wise. "The Force does not forget its own, Master Jedi. Your Learner is not lost to its Will."  
  
"Faith is a powerful ally." Qui-Gon agreed, looking at her briefly yet keeping his hand where it was, lightly touching Obi-Wan, barely brushing up against the short ginger hair in the hopes that somehow there would be a response. "So too is trust." After a brief brushing of his thumb along the padawan's brow, he moved his hand so he could shift in his chair, face the House's mistress fully. "Trust has existed between the Jedi and the Bahreena for centuries."  
  
"We are honored by your confidence."  
  
"Hmm." Qui-Gon murmured thoughtfully. "And yet, despite that trust, we were brought here under false pretenses, is that not true?"  
  
Inais Cherida paled so rapidly that there was no doubt that Qui-Gon's instincts had led him correctly.  
  
"Master Jedi…" She fumbled to find her voice. "What are you saying?" He could feel the fear rolling off her in a sudden wave, although his impression was that the fear was not necessarily directed at him.  
  
"I'm simply saying that I'd like to speak to Inais Roeh. I'm sure he can answer the questions I have."  
  
"As you wish, Master Jinn. I will have him summoned here to talk with you."  
  
He watched briefly as the mistress fled in search of her husband, then turned his attention back to his insensate apprentice, hearing the soft sounds of respiration but wishing with all his heart that he would hear something more…thoughts…voice..._something_.  
  
Wake up, my Padawan. He thought desperately.  
  
++++++  
  
Mace Windu felt it like a cold finger being run the length of his spine, a long shiver that made him sit up in the middle of the night, setting every nerve on edge. The same sort of restless unease that was often preceded the knowledge of a fight, knowing the strike was coming but not when or where…  
  
There was a shift in the Force; most of the Council knew of it, and some of the Masters. None of the Padawans. It was a foreboding of something terrible; the Dark Side was on the rise, and they knew it. Everything in the galaxy was shifting along with it, sliding toward such a state of imbalance that could only mean one thing…complete, total and utter disaster.  
  
It wasn't any long, slow slide either; the warnings were too strong to be taken as anything but an urgent message from the Force. And so the Jedi continued to stand in the gap, protecting the peace the best they knew how. 'Always in motion, the future is.' Wasn't that one of Master Yoda's nuggets of wisdom?  
  
Windu knew exactly where to find the wizened Jedi master. After such a summons, he was likely already waiting for Mace to arrive in the meditation chamber despite the unholy hour. Throwing on his outer robe and tying it securely he made his way to the meditation room that Yoda liked best.  
  
He was not disappointed; the diminutive Master was already seated, eyes closed. Mace waited silently, unwilling to disturb Yoda's meditation.  
  
"Awakened for a purpose we were." Yoda murmured; eyes still closed.  
  
"Yes. I've felt it too."  
  
"Coming quickly this danger is." The green-skinned Jedi now opened his eyes and regarded his friend frankly. Mace took a seat on one of the low circular pads and returned the look fully.  
  
"And what of Qui-Gon and his padawan?"  
  
"Hmm…" Yoda closed his eyes again, casting into the future to see what answers he might receive from the Force. "Changed not that has. Save Obi-Wan he cannot until face his past he does." Reopening his eyes and fixing Mace with a concerned look, Yoda continued, "Only too late I hope he is not."  
  
++++++  
  
It was the oddest sensation. He could hear his heartbeat thundering in his ears and yet…he couldn't feel his ears. Or his hands or his toes or anything else for that matter. He seemed to glide rather than walk; that part at least he had figured out how to do. He seemingly had no captor, no adversary to face.  
  
Of course he also had no lightsaber and so was perfectly content to remain unseen. He found himself doing all sorts of odd things like walking through closed doors and floating in corners. Things that his mind told him were completely impossible and yet he was expending no extra effort and was still doing them.  
  
He'd gotten quite a shock to find himself hovering over his own body, lying deathly still with his master sitting watchfully nearby. Was this what it felt like to die? Obi-Wan wondered curiously. He'd heard plenty of stories like this one, yet had never expected it to actually happen that way. Still…his heart was still beating. Something rather absurdly un- deathlike about that.  
  
Obi-Wan shifted a little, gliding to the foot of the bed, moving his gaze from his own self to regard his Master. What he saw there nearly broke his heart.  
  
Qui-Gon was stroking Obi-Wan's forehead gently with one hand, speaking softly, fairly _willing_ his apprentice to come back to him. From where he hovered in observance, Obi-Wan could see the distressed expression his master wore; hear the worry in Qui-Gon's voice…see the single tear that slipped down into the brown beard.  
  
Choking back his own emotions at seeing his master so distraught, Obi- Wan impulsively reached out a hand and brushed its insubstantial fingers across Qui-Gon's shoulder. He was rewarded by a strong shiver that suddenly coursed through Jinn's tall frame. Shocked and emboldened, Obi- Wan tried again and once more Qui-Gon shivered almost violently.  
  
"Master! I'm here…" He called out but unsurprisingly the Jedi Knight could not hear him. "Sith!"  
  
"Careful what you ask for, Learner, you might just get it."  
  
_Her_ voice? Obi-Wan whipped around, forgetting for the moment trying to contact his master. She was…well…sort of leaning on the doorframe, only she was also about six inches off the floor.  
  
"Who are you?" He demanded of her for the second time. He was not about to be put off this time. The girl from his visions smiled at his persistence but then was all seriousness again.  
  
"Learner, I can't maintain this for long so listen to me. You are still in danger even here. And by broadcasting your presence you place your master's life at risk as well. Leave him to his grief; with luck it will be short and unnecessary."  
  
As suddenly as she'd appeared, the girl was gone and Obi-Wan was left wondering first of all what sort of danger he'd just placed Qui-Gon in; second of all he realized that he'd listened to her _speak_ without pain or difficulty, and thirdly just _what had she meant by 'with luck?'  
  
"Don't you know how to fix this?" He shouted into empty air. There was no answer forthcoming. "Apparently not."  
  
He hesitated, looking at Qui-Gon's anguished face once again before quickly walking through the nearest wall to try to find his way out of the House Inais._


	14. A Study In Losses

THIRTEEN  
  
_The Jedi Council gave the boy a good looking over, and not only with the physical image of their eyes. The Force-sense in the room was almost enough to make Obi-Wan shiver, like he might if someone just barely brushed his skin with a fingertip. The slight flinch however did not go unnoticed by Qui-Gon, who stood just to the left of the fourteen year old. Jinn peacefully waited for the Masters to speak, while Obi-Wan struggled not to squirm beneath their watchful, probing gaze and remain calmly centered in the Force.  
  
Qui-Gon was impressed with the degree of control the youth displayed; certainly it was a normal emotion to be nervous, but Obi-Wan was rapidly mastering it, placing it under the control of the Force.  
  
_

_"Sorrow in you I sense." Master Yoda was the first to speak. His wizened face peered intently at the young Initiate, awaiting an answer.  
  
"Master Toran's loss is great." Kenobi's voice was subdued; Toran had been Obi-Wan's sparring instructor until an untimely death during a recent mission. Toran's funeral ashes had scattered to the winds only twelve hours earlier and grief had not yet ebbed from his young student. Qui-Gon felt a small pang of sympathy for the boy; this one was a study in losses. Obi-Wan was an orphan, with no other family than those Jedi who trained him. It was in fact Toran's death that had prompted Qui-Gon to formalize young Kenobi's apprenticeship.  
  
"One with the Force, Master Toran now is." Yoda continued, and even though the wizened old Jedi master could seem intimidating, there was a note of compassion in his voice as well. This was the first time Obi-Wan Kenobi was facing the death of a Jedi Knight…Yoda knew that Kenobi's perception of the event could be a vulnerable spot for the Dark Side. "Your feelings you must stretch."  
  
Obi-Wan glanced at Qui-Gon Jinn, and Qui-Gon nodded his approval. Obi-Wan closed his eyes obediently and reached down into that quiet center as he'd been taught to do. Suddenly his eyes flew open with understanding, and he looked at Yoda, startled. The small head nodded and a look of almost amusement reached the Jedi master's blue eyes. "Understand now you do."  
  
"Yes…Master Toran will always be with us." Kenobi suddenly stood a little straighter. Qui-Gon allowed himself a small smile. _A fine Jedi he'll be one day_.  
  
"Master Qui-Gon, wish this boy to apprentice, you do?" Yoda continued to speak for the Council, since all had already been decided before Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon's arrival.  
  
"I do, my Master." Qui-Gon said respectfully, his hands clasped before him. "I wish to honor my word and take Obi-Wan Kenobi as my Padawan- Learner."  
  
"Then take him you will. Agrees, the Council does."_  
  
"Master Jedi, are you all right?"  
  
The hand on his shoulder, Qui-Gon suddenly realized, had been there for some time. He looked up to see Inais Touku looking intently at him in concern.  
  
"The Force shown me…reminded me of the past." Jinn replied, rising to his feet. He motioned fluidly toward the motionless form of his apprentice. "The Council's decision to make Obi-Wan my Padawan-learner. Whatever purpose there is to this, I am fairly certain he is at the center." Qui-Gon paused, his breath snagging in a throat suddenly tight with emotion.  
  
"I am sorry harm has come to your Learner, Master Jinn." Touku said, and Qui-Gon sensed that it was an honest sentiment, and he nodded once to the House Roeh in response.  
  
"I appreciate your support, Roeh." His statement was also true, but Touku recognized the tone of voice as one moving the conversation away from relaxed sympathies on to something more formal. He crossed his arms and leaned on one of the several high-backed chairs in the room, preparing to listen. "I want to discuss a few matters with you, Inais Roeh. The true nature of our summons here, for example. Why did you deceive us?"  
  
"There was no deception, Master Jinn." Touku replied evenly, and reaching into the Force Qui-Gon could sense no anger or irritation. "You met the Hopefuls yourself, talked with their families. They _are_ ready for you to take them on to Coruscant. It was my intention to speak to you about…the rest privately, after the main ceremony last evening."  
  
"And the 'rest,' as you put it, was that you knew for a fact there was a servant of the Dark Side here in the city and wanted Jedi intervention in the matter." Qui-Gon spoke quietly but forcefully, driving home the point that the truth had been kept from them. Truth that _might_ have made a difference in his padawan's condition just now. Touku nodded silently, and Qui-Gon could feel the regret coursing through the man. "Did you deceive the Council in this manner as well?" He had to know if this Bahreena was honestly doing what he thought was right for his people or if he was possibly in league with this dark lord.  
  
"No, honored Master I did not. My request for help in this matter was received fully by the Council. There are some…concerns that this dark one may have an informer in one of the major Houses and so it was agreed upon to keep the details hidden until after your arrival. My apologies for the…inconvenience." Not quite the right word, but Touku's grasp of the finer details of Basic were not quite as good as Qui-Gon's grasp of Bahreeni.  
  
Qui-Gon nodded shortly; he recognized the honesty in the man's confession; there was no sense of deception or of intentional covering up. Yoda would have set this up, possibly along with Mace Windu; however he knew that it had not been a deliberate deception on the part of the Council either. It was simply misfortune that Inais Touku had not been able to inform them of these details before Obi-Wan's encounter with this dark infiltrator.  
  
"And you have no clues as to the identity of this individual, Roeh?" Qui-Gon knew that he was going to have to find answers…and fast. He felt a great weight settle around his shoulders; his Jedi mantle, so to speak, encompassing an entire planet of beings…and he realized then the scope of the threat this one person made against the Bahreena and indeed against the entire Jedi Order.  
  
_And already a first victim claimed_… The thought rushed unbidden into his mind and Qui-Gon squelched it ruthlessly, refusing to believe that Obi-Wan was lost to him.  
  
"No, I do not unfortunately. There have been few clues to go on, but my guess is that it is truly a native Bahreena…easily blended in and not noticeable as an outsider or off-worlder." Touku sighed heavily. "And that worries me, Master Jedi I must be frank. If the Dark Side has taken root here…"  
  
"…then you all are in grave danger. The Force has been gracious to preserve you from evil these many years." Qui-Gon had to wonder at that a little bit, curious about the history of Bahreen and the Jedi. That they had remained unspoiled, untainted by the darkness was a mystery of the Force, to be sure.  
  
Sighing softly, he returned his gaze one more to his fallen Padawan. Taking the few steps back to Obi-Wan's side, he took a limp hand in his own, clasping it affectionately for a brief moment. He did not want to go, but it seemed the tides of circumstance were rising ever higher and so much…so very much was at stake. I'm sorry, my young apprentice. He sent into the bond, even as he knew it to be a futile gesture. I will return as soon as I may… May the Force be with you.  
  
Lying Obi-Wan's hand carefully back at his side, Qui-Gon straightened up and turned from the bed.  
  
"Master Jinn?" Touku took note of the determined look on the Jedi's face.  
  
"I have an idea where I may begin. Please, the moment…"  
  
Qui-Gon's worried sentence was interrupted by the slender page who had greeted the two Jedi upon their arrival. The Jedi master's relief was evident as the figure following her appeared in the doorway.  
  
Obuk had arrived.  
  
++++++  
  
Obi-Wan found himself wandering--if you could call it that--aimlessly in the old part of the city some distance from the House Inais. He had no clue where to go really, or how he might find this girl. The fact of the matter was that he couldn't ask directions of anyone anyway; he was the wraith of fiction and dreams, he supposed. Unheard, unseen, observing the living around him and…what? Haunting? Was that what he was doing?  
  
People walked right through him, eliciting abrupt shivers from the living and an odd sense of that person's essence imprinted on his mind like an odd sort of handshake. Too bad none of them had any clue that he would love to ask them where he was going.  
  
He paused on his floating/gliding journey next to a pair of Bahreena who were waiting for a transport. If he could have run his finger through his hair he would have but the impulse hardly seemed possible as he still had no real physical sensation. Obi-Wan glanced at his 'companions,' and did a double-take. They looked vaguely familiar…a mother and child…and then it registered with him. The little girl was the one who'd drawn his master's attention at their first meeting last night, the one Qui-Gon had predicted would certainly be a Jedi Knight. And whose name for Force's sake he could not remember.  
  
"Wait right here, you hear me?" Her mother was telling her. "I just have to pick up one of these for your father."  She motioned to a stand nearby. The girl nodded but she wasn't really paying too much attention. She was looking straight up to her left--and Obi-Wan turned to see what it was she was staring through him to look at. When he turned back she was standing there alone and she shook her head just a little bit. And it was with a sudden shock that he realized that she was looking _at him!  
  
Hunkering down on one knee…at least that's what he hoped he looked like he was doing, he got down to eye level with the child.  
  
"Can you hear me?" He asked first, and when the girl's eyes widened and she nodded her head, he grinned broadly. "Can you tell me where we are?"  
  
"Bluehouse." The girl ran the words together and pointed to a nearby structure that was indeed graced with two very large, very blue doors.  
  
At that moment the transport arrived, and the child's mother hurried up and took her hand, tugging her away. Obi-Wan watched them go, and then decided that he certainly had nothing to lose by checking out this Blue House. Heedless of (and impervious to) the racing ground-speeder traffic, Obi-Wan made his way toward the large structure and passed straight through the blue front doors.  
  
++++++  
  
Twenty years had not been enough to erase the familiar path he walked from his mind, nor the memory of the sweet heady scent of skiffra trees or the song of the native creatures that dwelled in their branches. He could __almost feel her walking alongside him, her gentle lilting tones explaining the urgency of their situation and what he __must promise her to do…  
  
Qui-Gon moved almost automatically through the garden, his feet following the small footpath almost of their own volition it seemed, that mechanical instinct that took over when the mind was preoccupied.  
  
He had not visited here since the day he'd said goodbye to her cold, still body; her essence entrusted to the Force and the promise she had extracted from him deep in his heart. The marker was much as he remembered it; only now it was moss-covered and neglected. Kneeling down in front of it, he began to clear away the debris. Ahead of him, on the hill, were the remains of her beloved House, burnt all those years ago and the stone foundations blackened yet still standing.  
  
"You should see him, Ina." He said softly as he worked, something instinctive inside him working out the long-buried emotions. "He's everything you told me he would be, and more. He's strong…he has good instincts, good skills and he's improving all the time. You were right to rescue him; more right than I ever knew back then. I'm…" His voice faltered momentarily as a wellspring of emotion threatened to overwhelm him. "I'm sorry I failed you, Ina."  
  
"Not many people remember the House Amagi, much less an outworlder…and a Jedi no less. Stay where I can see you and turn around."  
  
The voice was so hauntingly familiar that Qui-Gon nearly called out her name, but he held his tongue. Slowly he did as he was bid, turning and holding his hands out away in plain view. It was almost like the pain of an old injury stabbing at him as he looked at this girl from his padawan's visions. She was standing there holding a lightsaber in her hand, not as yet ignited, and he had to wonder if she knew how to use it with any degree of skill. He had to wonder if that lightsaber was hers or if it was…inherited.  
  
"You look remarkably like your mother." How he'd found his voice long enough to speak, he didn't know. And it surprised him that those should be his first words to her, but so heavy had Ina's memory been of late that to see her very nearly mirror image here was astounding.  
  
The girl put up her weapon, hooking it to her belt much like any Jedi would, and glanced past him to the partially cleaned marker.  
  
"I was two the last time I saw you. And you buried my mother." Her voice was not quite frosty but it wasn't exactly warm either. Twenty years had done little to blunt her pain, but Qui-Gon could feel the small war going on inside her heart.  
  
"I buried a part of myself along with her that day." He spoke honestly and openly, unshed tears finding their way to prick his eyes. "How did you know we would be here?"  
  
"Sometimes I…see things." She didn't know how else to explain it; except that she knew her gifts were far above most of her peers. There had to be a reason for that, but she did not yet know what it was. Qui-Gon merely accepted that answer with a slight nod and he turned slightly back toward the marker.  
  
"Four hands will be faster than two, and I sense this is the first time you've been back here since…she died."  
  
The girl hesitated, then slowly knelt down beside the Jedi to help him tidy her mother's grave. Indeed she also had not walked this garden path in twenty years.  
  
"You're in danger here." She said suddenly, bluntly. "The Dark One will be looking for you and here is the…most likely place." The Jedi decided that equal bluntness was called for.  
  
"What did you do to my Padawan?"  
  
"I'm not sure there's a word that describes it, Master Qui-Gon." Jinn blinked that the girl knew his name. "and I'm not entirely sure I can even reverse it but I _am_ certain that I saved his life last night." She took in his amazed expression with an impassive one of her own. "Amagi Iya."  
  
"Excuse me?" Qui-Gon hadn't quite heard what she'd said.  
  
"Amagi Iya. That's my House name, the name my mother gave me the day the Force decided my place of birth should be _here_ and not say, somewhere on Coruscant." Qui-Gon had to smile a little; Ina had always been proud of her heritage too.  
  
"Amagi Iya, you're a part of a proud House." He cleared off the last of Ina's name, written in Bahreeni. "And I intend to see to it that you stay that way."_


	15. Revelations

FOURTEEN  
  
The Blue House. Obi-Wan found that the child's description covered much of the interior as well. Someone obviously had a color fetish, he decided as he wandered into unlit main chamber. Sunlight cascaded in through elongated windows high above, lending a cathedral-like appearance to the place. Indeed, incense of some sort was burning somewhere; he could see the faint smoke drifting about the room if not actually smell it.  
  
It looked like something eerily out of the past, and if he could have shivered he would have, but what passed for it in this state was akin to blinking; he didn't see anything one moment, everything focused sharply the next.  
  
His attention was drawn by a slight movement on the edge of his vision; turning he made his way into the center of the room. Kneeling on the floor with head pressed to the cold stone flagging in supplication was a dark blue robed figure.  
  
Blue again. Made an odd sort of sense actually.  
  
Obi-Wan glanced up to see the object of worship, and if he'd been bodily present he was sure his blood would have run cold. The icon affixed to the wall some meters above them was an image he remembered from his Code and Philosophy studies, the special meditation sessions that taught Jedi history, traditions and the Code by which all Jedi lived and served.  
  
The image was of the cerubathain, a talisman said to channel the Dark Side of the Force; legend said that it was created by the original Sith lords and contained the essence of the evil one himself. There were only a handful of the objects left in existence; most of them had been destroyed in the great battle between Jedi and Sith that had resulted in the current state of Light that had existed for a thousand years.  
  
"A Jedi knows no emotion, only the Force."  
  
Obi-Wan's attention snapped from the object of his study to the speaker, the figure who was still facing away from him on its knees but had risen up from the floor, devotions at an end. "Isn't that the way you've been taught, Padawan Kenobi?" His name was spoken lightly, mockingly, and Obi-Wan instinctively backed up a bit. How did--?  
  
"How do you know who I am?" He asked first, the question allowing a moment to gather his composure. What he _really_ wanted to ask was just how did this person know he was here? He was supposed to be…well if not a ghost exactly, at least ghost-like…mostly invisible. The key word here apparently was 'mostly;' the young girl at the transport corner had seen him too. Although he'd just figured that had something to do with innocence and purity or some such thing.  
  
The one before him was neither pure nor innocent; that much was certain.  
  
"I know much." The being stood now and turned to face him, pulling back the robe's hood and revealing a pale face and a wealth of jet-black hair and the most beguiling pair of eyes he'd ever seen. But for all her beauty, this woman fairly emanated the Dark Side, and it was a familiar touch. It was the touch of the dark one who'd invaded the Inais House reception. A second shock, almost as strong, hit him a moment later as recognition dawned on him.  
  
"Senator Nacena Berayl." His gaze immediately went to the talisman on the wall, then back to her deeply green eyes. "What are you doing here? Do you _know what that thing is?"  
  
"I came here for you, Padawan." She sniffed disdainfully, and suddenly her hand shot out and waved sharply to the right, and Obi-Wan found himself immobilized, as if she had somehow lassoed him. Again this seemed to be an impossible idea given his current state of existence, but whatever energies she had loosed were holding him rooted to the spot, incorporeal spirit or not. "And yes, I do indeed know what that is. Let's become acquainted, shall we?"  
  
++++++  
  
"Tell me about her."  
  
Iya's voice was soft in the small room. Qui-Gon turned from the window where he'd been standing and favored her with a compassionate look. Her hands were cupped around a small ceramic of tea, the steam rising in fragrant tendrils. His own cup sat on the table opposite her, getting cold but he paid it no mind. They'd returned to the House Inais at Iya's insistence and the first thing Qui-Gon had done was to inquire about Obi- Wan's condition. There had been no change, but Healer Obuk was still in with him, and would see to Qui-Gon's questions "in due course."  
  
So it was that they had retired to a small ante-room over graciously served tea to continue the awkward conversation they'd begun at Ina's graveside. Qui-Gon watched her a moment more as she sipped at her tea, not meeting his gaze but looking at a spot somewhere on the floor.  
  
"Your mother was an amazing woman, Iya." He looked back out the window now, knowing that the past was written in his eyes as well as his voice as he spoke. "She was one of the most astute Jedi Knights I've ever known; very skilled in the Jedi arts and very…compassionate." Qui-Gon forced away the lump that suddenly formed in his throat and blinked a bit. "She saved my life more than once in the time we knew one another. I was fortunate enough to return the favor. Only…not fortunate enough to be there in her most desperate fight. I could only return to Bahreen and mourn her."  
  
"I remember you taking her ashes." Iya's voice choked a little, and she hurried swallowed more tea in order to compose herself. Qui-Gon heard the tremor in her voice and stepped back toward her, placing his large, comforting hand on her shoulder.  
  
"Your mother gave her life defending the very principles she swore her life to. And her death secured life for you…for you both, really."  
  
"Both?" Iya echoed, looking up curiously at the Jedi Knight. "I was an only child, Master Jinn. Who else was she protecting?" Vague images of her home in flames flashed through Iya's mind; she closed her eyes tightly and tried to turn them away. The terror of a two-year old flashed through her for a brief moment and then faded away.  
  
"The other was a small boy. He just turned twenty-two like you. Do you remember Obi-Wan, Iya? You've been in contact with my Padawan for some time now, and you protected him last night but do you remember him?"  
  
Qui-Gon took his seat across from her again and sipped at vaguely warm tea, not caring that it had cooled off so much as it was the only thing available for his suddenly dry throat. He watched the young Bahreena's expression as she frowned slightly, casting back into her memory to try to answer that question.  
  
"I'm…not sure that I do." She said finally, although she seemed to remember…ginger hair and a lightly accented voice and someone yanking a fistful of her hair.  
  
"Your mother rescued him during an uprising on his home-world. His parents were killed because their Force-sensitive skills were feared among his people, and Amagi Ina was the negotiator the Council sent to settle the conflict. Obi-Wan was three months old when she brought him here for his own protection." Qui-Gon looked down at the tabletop now, lacing his fingers around his cup. "After her death, I kept a promise I made to her to take him to the Jedi Temple and make him my apprentice. She foresaw things for him, much like you have. You knew he was going to be in danger didn't you?"  
  
"Yes." Iya's voice was small even in the confines of the anteroom. "I tried to communicate that to him but I didn't have the…finesse necessary."  
  
"I should have taken you _both_ to Coruscant, but you were already in the custody of your guardian and he wouldn't allow it."  
  
As if she knew there was more to it than what Qui-Gon had allowed, Iya looked up at him with wise eyes. But before she could say anything, Qui-Gon jumped to his feet, called through the Force.  
  
"What is it?" Iya rose quickly in response to his motion.  
  
"Obi-Wan. The Healer is calling me."  
  
The two of them hurried down the hallway into the chambers in which Obi-Wan laid. His body was convulsing, the seizure wracking his slender frame. Obuk was quickly preparing a medication, his efforts to calm the seizure via the Force having been unsuccessful. A moment later the drug had been administered and the young padawan's body relaxed limply back into the cushions.  
  
"Force, that was close." Obuk murmured.  
  
"What happened?" Qui-Gon demanded, drawing close to the other side of the bed and taking his apprentice's hand in his own. So cold…  
  
"I've been trying to awaken him through the Force…accessing the parts of his brain that would react to external stimuli from his senses." Obuk explained. "This coma is not a natural one and it's been aggravated by the neurological damage he suffered earlier. I don't know how to explain it, Qui-Gon. Obi-Wan is alive and yet…he isn't. He's not in there." The healer motioned loosely toward the body lying on the bed. "His heart's beating, he's breathing, his internal functions are all intact but…it's just a shell, Qui-Gon."  
  
Jinn shuddered a little bit, unable to quite suppress it.  
  
"Master Healer." Iya stepped forward now, to the foot of the bed. "I believe I can provide that explanation." She proceeded to describe to the two Jedi Knights the visions she had received concerning Obi-Wan being captured by the Dark Side, how she had drawn him to herself and how she had followed him down the corridor in the House Inais and come upon him preparing to defend the children against the Black One. "He could not possibly defend himself or the others; he could barely hold his weapon."  
  
"The neuro impairment." Obuk surmised, and Iya nodded.  
  
"It was about to take him, and so I reached out to him and…I __pulled him out of there. Only…" Her eyes filled a little. "…I pulled him but not his body…somehow. I was too strong and I separated him from…" She motioned to the bed. "…himself."  
  
"So that's it…" Obuk stroked his chin with a forefinger and thumb, thinking. "Because it was a strong Force action to protect him, I'll wager that's why his body didn't die immediately when his spirit was taken from it. Somehow you managed to preserve both parts." He glanced down at the unconscious padawan. "Only I'm assuming that from what's just happened here that we're operating on a short timetable. We have to fuse him back together before his body succumbs to the strain of operating without…its owner."  
  
Iya swallowed nervously now, and her hands clenched into tight fists. Qui-Gon looked at her questioningly, and she swallowed again.  
  
"We have to find him first."  
  
"Sith." Obuk muttered. "All right, I'll be back in a minute." With that he stumped off to go looking for Force knew what. With the door closing behind them, both Qui-Gon and Iya turned their attention to the fallen Jedi apprentice.  
  
"This is the apprentice for whom my mother was killed?" Iya asked quietly, looking down at the pale features of youth who lay before her. Qui-Gon nodded, watching her face carefully.  
  
"Yes." He said at length, his voice calm. "Yes, he is. Amagi Iya, meet Obi-Wan Kenobi. She believed that he was destined for great things as a Jedi: 'The rise and fall of worlds,' she said. That is why she gave her life to protect him, and that is why she charged me to take on his training."  
  
"Yet you were not with her when she died?" Iya's eyes searched his own, and in them Qui-Gon could see the search for the love of a mother lost so long ago. He nodded silently; allowing her to take it in before he told her what must be said.  
  
"Iya…I loved your mother." Qui-Gon said it as gently as he could. The words that so long had been silent in his heart tore at him as well, but his gaze remained steady on her face. Realization dawned gradually in Iya's expression, her eyes now telling him that she understood. "It is not permitted in the Code for a Jedi to love in that manner, and for a last time she saved my life by offering to leave the Order herself, but begged the Council to allow me to stay. After some deliberation they granted her request. She was returning here to her home, to a new future. The last time I saw your mother alive was just before she left Coruscant and after she made me promise to come to Bahreen for Obi-Wan. Eight months later you were born."  
  
A moment of silence hung between them before Iya spoke again.  
  
"Mother never told me about my father." She said slowly. "She would only say that I should never doubt that he was a good man." Iya hesitantly smiled. "And she was right. He is."  
  
"Good men make mistakes, too." Qui-Gon replied softly. "I only hope that mine haven't cost Obi-Wan his life."  
  
"The path of a Jedi is never easy. But it is honorable and I know that your Padawan will walk it."  
  
The words, spoken so confidently, took Iya by surprise even as she said them. But somehow she just knew they were true. Qui-Gon too could sense the Force-truth behind them, and he nodded agreement, a smile coming to his lips.  
  
"I think my daughter walks it as well, even though she does not wear the robe."  
  
"We have to find him, Qui-Gon. And we have to find him now."_


	16. Dangers Present

FIFTEEN  
  
The room, it turned out, was merely an audience chamber. Obi-Wan's ephemeral self was being tugged along by the merest motion of his captor's finger; the dark tendrils of power that held him were obedient to her whim and he found himself following her however unwillingly.  
  
"At first I was merely content to cause a disruption between the Bahreena and your precious Jedi Council; I figured the death of a Jedi Padawan at the hands of the gentlest Force-sensitives in the galaxy would raise no small stir." Nacena seemed content to narrate along as she dragged him along behind her, not particularly noticing as he passed right through chairs and tables and whatever else. None of the incidental contacts with freestanding furniture had any effect on either his condition or on the power she seemed to have over him. "As a side benefit it would be sufficient to destroy that bantha you call your master."  
  
At that, Obi-Wan fairly bristled, and he cast a baleful look at the back of his captor's head as she continued to walk ahead of him.  
  
"Force take you." He muttered.  
  
"Tsk, tsk now Padawan. A Jedi knows no anger, remember? Or have you so quickly forgotten all that your teacher has told you?" She waved a finger in the air but did not face him, letting her condescending tone be the equivalent of a scathing look. "Two things have altered my designs but only by a little." She let the sentence hang, mocking him, daring him to break his uncooperative, unruly silence with her. Almost as if the words were being dragged from his mouth, Obi-Wan finally asked,  
  
"What are they?" His voice was flat and uninterested sounding. But in truth if he ever found a way back to Qui-Gon he would warn him of any plan he learned here.  
  
"The first is the discovery of another of my kind here. This place," She waved her hands around expansively. "Is his. He built it upon the discovery of the cerubathain you saw in there. And he is the member of a major House…the very same in which your master now watches over you. Or what used to be you."  
  
Obi-Wan couldn't contain his shock. The Dark Side had taken refuge in a ruling House…the House Inais no less? Was that what the girl from his visions had meant by saying he had placed Qui-Gon in danger? Instinctively he cast a probing finger toward Nacena in the Force, attempting to ascertain if she was indeed telling him the truth or if she was attempting to mislead him in some fashion for a bigger purpose.  
  
The sudden pain that coursed through him like a backlash of sorts quickly put an end to that, and he audibly gasped, both from the sensation itself and the confusion of the fact he could _feel_ it when he was…well body-less.  
  
"What did you do?" He found himself asking reluctantly. He wasn't eager to feel _that_ again anytime soon.  
  
"You're not _completely_ disconnected you know. If you were, you'd be one with the Force already and your body cold and dead. One simply has to know how to find that slender link…"  
  
Obi-Wan got the idea.  
  
"What's the other thing?" He asked, trying to sound unemotional about it. Nacena laughed a little.  
  
"Well the other thing is your current predicament, Padawan Kenobi. One would have to be a fool not to take advantage of that somehow or other. That idiot daughter of Jinn's has created an interesting opportunity for my master."  
  
If Obi-Wan could have dropped his jaw in utter shock, he would have. As it was, he made a small involuntary sound that was indicative of his surprise. Nacena _did turn to face him now; he abruptly stopped moving and found himself existing in the middle of a table. "Oh," Her voice fairly dripped with contempt and sarcasm. "He's never told you about his little family, has he? The woman he loved against the Jedi Code and fairly abandoned to die at the whim of your Council, and the daughter he left behind in order to take on a cub of an apprentice?"  
  
"What…do you mean?" Obi-Wan asked shakily, and he fought to steady his voice.  
  
"I mean," Nacena said sweetly although her words were cutting. "That if it wasn't for you that perhaps your 'Master' would have had a happier life."  
  
Happier? Leaving the Order? But then again…what __of love? As an apprentice to the Jedi Order he had not allowed himself to think on that; it was forbidden for good reasons and that was good enough for him. His family were the Jedi he learned and served with; he didn't need another. If Obi-Wan was anything, it was single-mindedly determined to reach his goal to be a Jedi and to make his Master proud. There was little room for anything else. And in twenty years he had never known his Master to be anything but content with his life as a Jedi Knight. Hard life or not, it was noble and a gift and Qui-Gon had shouldered his destiny with as much grace as any Jedi that Kenobi had ever known.  
  
His thoughts derailed from their confusion briefly as they strayed to the memory of that holograph generator. The beautiful woman there who looked so much like the girl from his visions. With that everything snapped into place and he instinctively knew that this servant of evil was telling at least a partial truth. He could not believe it of Qui-Gon that he would leave anyone to die if it had been in his power to help her. And what did he, Obi-Wan, have to do with either of these women? That part of it was a total mystery to him. Surely he wasn't…_truly_ Qui-Gon's son? The Council would likely have turned his training over to another Knight if that were the case, wouldn't they?  
  
Watching the confusion and shock vie for position on the young Padawan's Force-aura face, Nacena simply smiled and waved a hand, jerking him along after her and continued to walk along to her destination deep inside the 'Blue House.'  
  
++++  
  
Qui-Gon watched as his daughter slowly circled the end of the bed to stand at Obi-Wan's side. Vague childish memories of a small playmate with that same ginger hair surfaced again briefly in her mind, and again she seemed to remember a hair-pulling incident. She shook her head a little, and found herself compassionately taking up one of the padawan's hands in both of her own, an apology of sorts for rescuing him in the most awkward, backward manner and for having subjected him to so much pain just to save him from more. Qui-Gon could feel the waves of sympathy rolling off the girl, and he smiled inwardly. So very much like her mother, loving and kind.  
  
A moment later there was a small rap at the doorframe, just light enough to gain his attention and Qui-Gon turned to see Obuk motioning for him to come into the hallway. Jinn glanced back Iya, indicating with a small gesture that she should stay where she was and then joined Obuk outside the room, allowing the door to close behind him.  
  
"What is it, my friend?" Qui-Gon prompted, and Obuk held out a datapad.  
  
"I think I know what it is she's done to Obi-Wan and how she did it. Might help us to bring him back. Are you familiar with the concept of 'planing,' Qui-Gon?" He pronounced it as 'plane-ing,' and Jinn shook his head just slightly.  
  
"It is not a familiar term to me, no."  
  
"Planing is a metaphysical concept…between mind," Obuk tapped his head. "And body." He tapped his chest. "The idea that one and one equals…one. All Jedi are taught this to a degree, the difference between who we are and who we appear to be. 'Luminous beings, not crude flesh.' And all Jedi 'plane' to a degree when we communicate with one another through the Force, be it through the danger sense or…say the master- apprentice bond." Obuk waved his hand in the general direction of Obi-Wan's bed. "But true planning…the ability to actually step outside one's body in the Force and have a look around…that is an extremely ancient, extremely naturally-occurring, extremely __rare gift. I would say from the looks of things that your young friend in there has it and then some. Especially to have halved your apprentice so neatly into separate 'one and one' parts that make up the whole 'one' of Obi-Wan Kenobi."  
  
"Planing…" Qui-Gon echoed curiously. "Some Force-gifts are genetically present and passed on to future generations, even latent ones. Is it possible Iya could have inherited that from her parents?"  
  
"Possible but not necessary. Planers were oddballs in the early days of the Order, people who were so strong in the Force that they could step from one plane of existence into another and back again without so much as batting an eyelash. That's where they get the name, by the way, the whole plane of existence idea." Obuk actually paused for a breath now and Qui-Gon couldn't help but smile. Always the same old dear Obuk. "Unfortunately planers were also often incredibly unstable; many of them were part of the first Sith knights back then. Because of the total annihilation of the Sith, those gifts have been thought to be lost to the Jedi forever."  
  
"She's my daughter, Obuk." Qui-Gon confessed without preamble, and the healer's eyes went wide with sudden understanding.  
  
"You didn't know Ina was pregnant when she left, did you?" It was a statement more than a question.  
  
"No one knew. She kept it from all of us, including the Council. It was only her word that sealed my fate with the Council; if they had known there was a baby they would have dismissed me without so much as a by-the- Force's-leave. And they would have had every right to do so."  
  
"Don't dwell on the past Qui-Gon. You've got a padawan in there who needs you very much. His time is running short and we've got to help Iya get him back."  
  
"Short?" Qui-Gon echoed sharply, old pains suddenly melting away in the face of stronger, newer ones.  
  
"Yes. It's my estimation from this material that we can expect Obi- Wan's body to survive two…maybe three days more maximum without the rest of him inside there before he begins to suffer major organ failure, cardiac and respiratory arrest and death. Planing was never meant to be anything more than a tool, a gift, a _short walk_ around the block through the Force. Obi-Wan is not a natural planer, remember. He has been under for almost eighteen hours now, and he's already suffered a seizure."  
  
Qui-Gon looked down at the datapad that Obuk had thrust into his hands.  
  
"What's this for?" He asked mechanically, feeling his heart frozen inside of his chest at the thought of losing Obi-Wan forever.  
  
"It's a little information on planing that might help you and…your daughter work together to locate Obi-Wan. I'll keep an eye on him here and keep him as stabilized as I can."  
  
"Thank you, Obuk." Jinn said softly, feeling that frozen heart suddenly cramming up into this throat as if to shut off his air, and Obuk gently placed his slender hand on the Jedi master's shoulder. A sudden twinkle came to his eye and he said softly,  
  
"You keep sending him back to me. At this rate he'll meet the Force before he meets the Trials, old friend."  
  
Qui-Gon couldn't help but chuckle softly. Leave it to Obuk to take the weight off his shoulders at just the right moment.  
  
"He'll be alright if he doesn't introduce himself to the Force first. Force preserve him."  
  
"Force preserve him indeed."_


	17. Only Human

SIXTEEN  
  
Iya remained at Obi-Wan's side as Qui-Gon carried on his conversation with the Jedi healer out in the hallway. His hand was still tucked in both of hers, slender fingers loosely curled. He had rather exquisite hands for a Jedi; even more so for a human male at that. They were slim hands not given to thick palms or stubby fingers. Yet she could tell even in this slack posture that they were also powerful hands, strong from training and graceful from handling a lightsaber.  
  
The rest of him was similarly compact yet strong; the outline of muscles hardened from years of conditioning just visible beneath the thin blanket that covered him. He had the sort of jaw-line that Iya could easily imagine set in stubbornness, and yet his features were rather youthful, belying his twenty-two years. She studied him carefully; in all of her sessions with him, she had never been focused enough to get as good a look at him as he had of her.  
  
Iya recalled her first sight of him at the reception, walking alongside his master, his stride easy and loose, giving him the appearance of more height than he actually possessed; confident without being arrogant, comfortable in his role and what was expected of him.  
  
His master…  
  
My father.  
  
Iya unconsciously tightened her grip on Obi-Wan's hand, pausing a moment to glance back through the small pane of glass set in the door; she could just see the back of the Jedi Master's head as he continued his discussion with Obuk. She wasn't quite sure what she'd been expecting in a father, should she ever find him, but she wasn't sure she expected _him_.  
  
Qui-Gon Jinn was certainly a very interesting individual. The few conversations they'd shared so far had revealed him to be an extremely intelligent, compassionate man, marked by the calm and peaceful demeanor most Jedi displayed. He was a tall man; finally she began to see where she'd inherited some of her features; she shared his tall build and intensely blue eyes and gentle humor. He was, Iya decided, the sort of man she could grow to like…even love…as a father-figure, and she smiled a little. Finally she belonged somewhere.  
  
Just as this one did, she thought as she gazed back down on Obi-Wan's silent form. She knew little enough about the ways of the Jedi but one thing she did know was that the masters and the apprentices among them often formed their own family relationship of sorts. The ties that bound them were stronger than death, or so it was fabled. And from Qui-Gon's steady, quiet, troubled concern over Obi-Wan's condition, she judged the stories to be quite true.  
  
"Kasha…" She murmured the Bahreeni word for 'brother.' "Well…sort of."  
  
"He would like you, I'm sure."  
  
Iya was startled to see her father return to the room, his robe swaying with the motion of his steps. For all his imposing height he too was graceful, like his student, lithe and catlike. Quite likely he could sneak up on most anyone with little difficulty.  
  
"I…don't know about that. I'm not used to having much in the way of…family." She said it awkwardly, stumbling over the last word as she suddenly realized what that sounded like, closing her eyes and inwardly cursing herself for the hurtful implications of her statement.  
  
Qui-Gon indeed did feel the initial stab of guilt, but at the same moment he felt her contrition and he knew she had not meant it as an accusation. Still…Code or not, Ina's pleading with the Council on his behalf or not, perhaps he should have stepped aside and returned to Bahreen with her and raised his daughter with her. Perhaps if he had…  
  
Iya saw him close his eyes tightly and through the Force she could sense his feelings and thoughts, swirling tightly around him like a tidal pool, emotions and regrets that had been buried for two decades. Releasing her hold on Obi-Wan's hand, she crossed the few paces' distance between them and reached up to place a hand on his chest.  
  
"Dajo." She said softly, speaking the affectionate Bahreeni term for 'papa' and Qui-Gon's breath stilled in his throat for a moment. Had he really heard what he thought he had? Traditionally the term was reserved for the use of the eldest child of the House. "Nanii v'n ketero v'ndi chah." (Mother would want you to be at peace.)  
  
Jinn was hard pressed now not to break down entirely; true it was that for the Jedi there was 'no emotion, only the Force' but he was only human. Force take him, he was only human and he had the scars and tears to prove it. It was enough that he could hear Ina's voice in his daughter's, and he abruptly but not ungently pulled her to himself in a tight embrace; his strong arms enfolding her to his heart.  
  
They stood there like that for a long moment, just listening to each other breathe and feeling the other's heart; Qui-Gon slowly releasing the long pent-up feelings into the Force as they did. Finally Qui-Gon loosened his hold on his daughter and placed his hands on her shoulders, bringing her a pace away to look at him.  
  
"You've had a lonely growing up, Iya. I promise you it will not be so any longer. You'll come back to Coruscant with me and Obi-Wan; I know that the Council will not refuse you a place among us, even though you won't be able to take the training." He sounded a bit more confident than he felt; he was not certain how the Council would react to the news of his fatherhood, albeit an absent and hidden one. Still, he felt sure that it was the will of the Force that had returned them to one another and he could not imagine the Force splitting them apart again now. "Would you like that? To come back with us?" He was surprised at the hesitation in his voice and realized he was afraid she would turn him down!  
  
Iya looked up at her father sharply. Such an invitation! To go to the Jedi Temple had been a dream, just to see for herself…but to live there? To start over again and perhaps give her father a second chance… His midnight blue eyes were _so hopeful looking, waiting patiently for her answer.  
  
"Yes." She said softly, respectfully. The smile that graced her father's face was something she hadn't been prepared for, and she couldn't help but smile back.  
  
"He will like you." Qui-Gon repeated, knowing Obi-Wan's mischievous side all too well. "Your memory of a hair-pulling doesn't surprise me at all." Iya looked at him in surprise and Qui-Gon spread his hands slightly. "One thing you will learn at the Temple is a finer control of your abilities. Your thoughts are very strong and undisciplined." He chuckled a little. "Not unlike a young Padawan who broke several windows while learning how to Force-hit." Obi-Wan, obviously. "Are you ready to try to locate Obi-Wan?"  
  
Iya nodded, already feeling herself instinctively gathering up all her energies. Qui-Gon handed her a datapad, the same one that Obuk had give him. "Look that over and see if it makes sense to you with what you know how to do. I'll be there…" Qui-Gon motioned to the small balcony that lined this room as well. "…when you're ready to proceed."  
  
++++++  
  
It was not unlike being chained to a wall or something. The dark force used by the senator-elect to confine him here held him absolutely motionless; even Obi-Wan's field of vision was limited by his inability to move. And he was quite alone. Wherever she had disappeared to, he had no clue but he wasn't overly anxious for her to return either.  
  
His thoughts were in a jumbled mass; everything from what he'd been told by Nacena to worries for his Master's safety to wondering about the Hopefuls. Why had that young one directed him to the Blue House to begin with? __Especially one so prescient with the Force?  
  
And what could he _possibly_ do to change the situation? That he was captive here was bad enough. That he was…a ghost or whatever was ridiculous. That he was allowing his emotions and frustration to run away with him now was intolerable.  
  
Obi-Wan closed his "eyes" and allowed himself to react naturally, as he had been taught, to reach deep down into the core of his being and touch the Force. It wasn't the first time since his disembodiment that he had attempted to find his center, but for some odd reason this time it was the most successful. Stretching into the feeling, he allowed it to permeate his thoughts, ordering the disorder and calming anxieties.  
  
That done, he tentatively stretched out, flinging a line into the master-apprentice bond. He hoped.  
  
Would it stretch far enough to reach Qui-Gon in an alternate state of existence?  
  
"Luminous beings we are," Yoda had taught often and taught well. "Inside this shell we live, hmm?"  
  
Well…  
  
Obi-Wan strained as hard as he could, putting as much of himself into the Force-fed contact as possible. One luminous being should be able to reach across any distance to find another of his kind, right?  
  
Right?  
  
Master! He called out desperately. Master, I'm here!  
  
Force, would Qui-Gon even hear?  
  
Obi-Wan felt himself weakening; he knew he would not be able to keep this up for long. Gathering himself up for one last strong attempt, he fairly strained against his restraints with the effort.  
  
MASTER!_


	18. Soul Walking

Finally! LOL the muse has cooperated enough to give me some help here.  Thank you for being patient with me while she whispered "A Death Denied" into my ears…  Hopefully a bit better balanced my time will be between these two tales.   Enjoy!

SEVENTEEN

                The predawn fog that clung to the world at this sleepy hour misted everything but Qui-Gon scarcely noticed it as he sat cross-legged on the balcony.  The sun would rise and his meditation would rise with it.  He hadn't slept much, there had only been scattered short dozes in the chair beside Obi-Wan's bed to try to hold exhaustion at bay.  The Force was about all that held him upright at the moment as he sought its strength.  But until his Padawan wakened in this existence, he must be watchful, must be vigilant…

                He could not lose him to evil.  Not when they had come so far.

                Their bond, once established, had been almost immediate, very powerful, striking him with all the skill that Ina had said was inherent in the boy; he was strong in the Force.  She had been certain that Obi-Wan would be involved in great things in the galaxy, a center-pin for the Force's purposes on history's wheel.

                Despite the strength of destiny that seemed to have bound them together, though, those first days had been hard.  Qui-Gon, struggling with his own private grief that establishing Kenobi's apprenticeship had reawakened, had been very reluctant to take on another emotional attachment in spite of what he'd promised Ina.

                But Obi-Wan had been open and honest, wide-eyed and innocent even as Qui-Gon had held him at arm's length emotionally and somewhere along the line the boy had quite simply…stolen into his heart.  He couldn't put a finger on the exact moment, but somehow Qui-Gon had come to the realization that this promise Ina had extracted from him was more than as simple charge to train Obi-Wan.  It had been her way of taking care of his heart even though she was no longer with him; he thought somehow she had known her days in this present life were limited.

                Their relationship had progressed as naturally as it should between Master and apprentice, and there was a fondness in their hearts for one another that transcended simple comradeship, even family.  They were father and son in all but blood and it tore at Qui-Gon's heart to see his padawan precariously clinging to this world by a thread.

                Quashing his worries forcefully he closed his eyes and set himself to meditate; he needed to gather together as much strength as he could in order to rescue his apprentice.  However when he closed his eyes; his thoughts were drawn away to his daughter.

                His daughter.

                He had known that day as he'd buried Ina's ashes that the small two year old looking on was his without needing anyone to tell him.  She had her mother's imprint upon her very soul it seemed.  His heart had ached, longed to tell her but he'd known that if he had, everything for which Ina had given her life would have been destroyed.  The sacrifice of her knighthood to save his, her vision for Obi-Wan, indeed her very protection of their daughter…all would have been in vain had he tried to convince the Council to accept Iya then.

                She was so strong in the Force however that he did not think they would refuse her right to be with her father now.  Too great a risk it would be to have a Force-sensitive of that power and ability unleashed on the galaxy without some sort of guidance, even if she was far too old to begin the training.  At the Temple at least she would learn some control and perhaps a purpose for her gifts and that would be well for her.

                Of course…it would be well for him too…

                Qui-Gon had to smile at the things he saw in his girl that spoke so strongly of her mother and…oddly enough, spoke strongly of himself in her as well.  In her eyes he saw a chance to heal a place in his soul he thought lost forever.  That she had agreed to return with them had overjoyed his heart more than he knew how to express.  Now he just had to get the Council to agree to it…

                "Dajo?"

                Iya's voice was soft but certain behind him, and Qui-Gon inclined his head a little but did not quite turn toward her, some semblance of meditation remaining in his posture.

                "Yes, Iya?" He said gently, reassuringly.  He certainly did not want to start off with her feeling unwelcome or intrusive by any means.

                "I am ready." She affirmed.  "And I think I may be able to take you with me…if you are willing to come, Dajo.  Soul-walking can be difficult."

                Soul-walking.  So that was what she called it.  Difficult or not, however, Qui-Gon knew he had to do all he could to retrieve his Padawan.  Obi-Wan was as much family to him as this child of his own blood; he could not fail his apprentice now.  He nodded, the early morning breeze lightly blowing aside strands of long hair.

                "I am willing, Iya.  Let's find Obi-Wan and bring him home."

                Iya came around now to sit down in front of him, her own hair billowing around her face as the gentle breeze teased it with its ever-shifting touch.  Qui-Gon opened his eyes and looked into hers; exquisite like her mother's and yet carrying a spark all their own.  His expression softened for an instant, and curiosity touched Iya's face in response.

                "What is it, Dajo?" She asked quietly.  Qui-Gon smiled a little.

                "You do remind me so much of your mother sometimes.  I miss her still."  Suddenly Qui-Gon stiffened a bit, his breath snagging in his throat and his eyes widening just the slightest bit.

                "Dajo?" Iya shifted suddenly, bringing a hand up to his shoulder.  "Are you all right?"

                Qui-Gon nodded ever-so-slightly, closing his eyes and concentrating.  Surely it couldn't be…It must be his imagination, hope working overtime… But no, there it was again, feather-faint and yet…somehow instinctively Qui-Gon knew it was not _far off.  __Master! The call into his mind through the bond was both soft and yet a floodtide, a voice that he'd thought perhaps was lost to him forever._

                "Obi-Wan…" He whispered softly in reply, and then reached out into the bond itself, repeating the name.  Obi-Wan.  I hear you…where are you? Qui-Gon waited a long moment, finally releasing the breath he'd been holding, waiting for a response.  Obi-Wan? Can you hear _me?_

                But there was no more response forthcoming, and Qui-Gon shook his head slightly.

                "Soul-walking takes a lot of energy, Dajo, and this walk is not of his own will.  I doubt he would be able to keep contact for more than a few seconds at a time."  Iya had felt the slight ripple as well, even though she had not been discerning of Obi-Wan's voice; that had been projected simply to Qui-Gon alone.

                "Take me on a walk, Iya." Jinn urged quickly.  "He's out there and he's alone."

                Iya nodded slightly and she laid a hand on her father's chest, closing her eyes and stretching out into the Force.  Almost instantly Qui-Gon felt something akin to a small explosion of light in his mind; his daughter's powerful, undisciplined presence introducing itself to his mind with very little finesse.  He barely had time to snap up some basic shields to keep from being overwhelmed as his padawan had before she was linking herself to him in a manner he had never felt before.  _Force, no wonder Obi-Wan collapsed._

                _Dajo…take hold of me now…and whatever you do, do not let go until I say…or I'll lose you and both__ of you will need rescuing.  Iya's voice commanded and subconsciously Qui-Gon nodded, wrapping himself around her Force-signature much like a hand grasping a safety line.  __Follow me, Dajo…_

                There was another flash, something less brilliant than the first one, and Qui-Gon blinked.  Only…he didn't blink.  He felt nothing, not even his own breath.

                When he looked down, he saw himself sitting there hand in hand with his daughter, her free hand still resting against his chest, the two of them frozen in time.

                "Do you know where to begin?" Qui-Gon asked, finding it quite easy to speak despite his lack of a true voice.  Or vocal chords for that matter.  It must have been so confusing for Obi-Wan, finding himself suddenly wrenched out of his body into this strange existence.

                "I have an idea, Dajo but I'm not sure it's a correct one.  My last contact with your apprentice was there in the House Inais and he set off toward the city."

                "Then…we'll go to Khuta En."

++++++

                Obi-Wan waited in relative silence, his own thoughts his only company.  He was unsure of just how much time had passed since his attempt to contact his master, and he was nearly too drained to care.  Something had been taken from him in the attempt but he wasn't sure exactly what or how much it was.

                Still…he was _almost certain that he'd felt…something.  A brief connection, a breath even, it was so light.  Was he just hoping against hope that he had contacted Qui-Gon, and felt his master's presence in return?  Luminous beings, like Yoda said…Obi-Wan could not give up the belief that he'd succeeded._

                "I see nothing." A gruff voice startled him from his reverie, and he looked up wearily to see that Nacena had indeed returned and with her was a tall Bahreena male that bore faint resemblance to their host in the House Inais.  Obi-Wan felt a slight shock travel through him until he realized that it was not the Roeh himself but possibly a lesser relative, a cousin perhaps?  But the House resemblance was indeed stamped on the man's features and a brief anxiety swept over Obi-Wan as he thought again of his master.  Was Qui-Gon safe?  He hoped desperately that it was so.

                "Concentrate, you fool.  He's right in front of you." Nacena prompted, and she waved a hand impatiently.  Obi-Wan sensed a sharp rise of darkness in the motion and suddenly the Bahreena was moving to stand mere inches from him, eyes narrowed in scrutiny.

                "He's a stripling and barely that."

                "He's the apprentice of that Jedi fool residing in your House." Nacena purred.  "Surely you can see his potential for your purposes."

                "They're looking for him." The man grunted, and Nacena's expression became one of disgust.

                _Looking for him...Master Qui-Gon was looking for him!  Obi-Wan felt a surge of relief flood through him as he realized that he had indeed been successful in contacting his master.  It was followed instantly by the chill realization that he was being sized up for something.  Something that could not be good, and instinctively he tried to pull back, although he was still held fast._

                "Then you'll just have to do something about that, now, won't you?"


	19. Winds of Change

At last I have had some inspiration to add to this tale. LOL my apologies for the delay….Force willing the muse will continue to sing to me. :D  Enjoy!

EIGHTEEN

                The streets of Khuta En were a little less busy than when Iya and Qui-Gon had begun their search, for which Qui-Gon was immensely grateful; the initial experience of people walking straight through him more than a bit unnerving.  He couldn't help but wonder once more what Obi-Wan had thought of these strange sensations.

                "Anything?" Iya asked him softly, for what seemed like the thousandth time.  She could sense the odd ripple here and there, but no direct contact with Obi-Wan, where it had seemed that for at least that small moment earlier Qui-Gon had actually gotten a sense of the apprentice through the bond, a specific communication.  It was more than strange; she had been able to pinpoint Obi-Wan half a galaxy away but here on her homeworld could not gain a simple fix on his presence.

                "No." He answered his daughter simply, truthfully…anxiously, despite several attempts to release his worry to the Force.  Khuta En might not be the largest city he had ever been in, but it was certainly large enough.  "We need a point of reference; we could spend months here and not find him."

                A small ache presented itself at the base of Qui-Gon's skull, or where it would be if he had one in this plane of existence, and he winced a little.  Just that quick, Iya was facing him, watching him with concern.

                "Does it hurt, Dajo?" Her voice was soft, but urgent.  He started to protest, but she shook her head.  "Tell me the truth; if it hurts we must go back.  I want to find your Learner as much as you do, but I will not sacrifice you to do it."

                Qui-Gon hesitated just the briefest of moments.  Surely he could withstand a little discomfort if it meant locating Obi-Wan and returning him safely.  However, Iya's eyes clearly displayed her concern, and abruptly the small ache blossomed into a sharp pain and even in this incorporeal form he could tell it was an echo of his physical body, back on the balcony at the House Inais.

                Suddenly there was a rushing sensation, like standing at the end of a wind tunnel and then all at once he felt as if he were falling forward and finally he was aware of someone carefully laying him down onto the cool permacrete balcony.  Slowly bodily awareness began to return to him, and he could hear his own breathing, a bit ragged, and felt a slender hand against his face.

                "_Iya…" He murmured as midnight-blue eyes blinked open to take in the slightly blurred image of his daughter sitting next to him. Belatedly he realized that she had caught him as he'd begun to black out, and it was her sheer force of will that had kept him from losing consciousness totally._

                "Sshh." Iya soothed gently, her palm still held softly at his cheek, her thumb stroking comfortingly against the beard.  "Rest awhile, regain your strength.  I told you soul-walking is not easy."

                "_But…Obi-Wan…our time is…limited."  Qui-Gon found his voice was hoarse, weakened much as the rest of him by the extended effort they had made in seeking his Padawan._

                "I will go out looking for him, Dajo.  I won't give up on him, I promise."

                "_I want…I want to go with you."  Something absurd about a father asking his daughter permission for something, even more so as a Jedi.  Iya shook her head a little bit._

                "Maybe later, but not until you've slept awhile; you're exhausted.  You will be no good to him if you are hurt…or killed…trying to find him.  This is a delicate and dangerous thing for a non-Walker."

                Qui-Gon could see that there would be no arguing with her; she was as stubborn as her mother had been, perhaps even more so, and just as skilled at persuasion.  He closed his eyes a moment, the feeling of solid floor beneath him was a welcome sensation.

                Iya moved her hand now to his shoulder, and Qui-Gon looked back up at Iya once more, his vision more focused now.  Wordlessly, she helped him to sit up, and they stayed like that for several moments.

                "Thank you." He said at length, and Iya shifted a bit.

                "Do you think you can stand up?"  It was a moment's work; Qui-Gon felt blasted out, hollow, and he swayed unsteadily as he regained his feet.  Iya quickly got an arm around him and steered him back into the room, past Obi-Wan's body and over to the long old-fashioned wood-frame couch that ran along the wall a few feet away from the padawan's bed.  Qui-Gon sank down onto it gratefully, and Iya brought him a pillow, slipping it beneath his aching head.  "Rest now, Dajo.  I promise I will return soon. Hopefully Obi-Wan will be with me."

                It wasn't like he could argue it with her; almost as soon as he felt the soft comfort of the couch cushions beneath him he could sense himself starting to drift, his drained body and mind demanding sleep of him.  He blinked drowsily, still gazing at his daughter and then turned his eyes toward Obi-Wan's still form just a few feet away.

                "_May the Force be with you, Iya." Qui-Gon whispered huskily, and then his eyes closed.  Mere moments later he was asleep.  For a long moment Iya stood beside him, watching over her father with an expression both tender and determined.  She would not fail him; she had taken his Padawan from him, she would return his Padawan to him._

                Dropping down into a cross-legged position not far from her father and his apprentice, Iya allowed herself to drift back down inside, and then drawing herself _out, to begin again to seek the Padawan for the Padawan's sake._

                And for his Master's.

++++++

                Obi-Wan wondered vaguely how long he had been here; time seemed to have slowed down, fragmented, ebbed and coalesced again into an unending boredom.  It could have been just a few hours…or just a few days…or even a few months and he might never have known it.  Well…all right, perhaps not _months but the feeling of being cut off was…stifling, overwhelming.  How long ago had it been since he had felt that gentle brush of his Master's mind?  How long since had had heard the welcome news that Master Qui-Gon was searching for him?_

                How long until he would begin to lose hope that he would be found?

                Pushing that thought as far back into the recesses of his mind as he could, Obi-Wan set himself to once again try to reach out into the Force to contact Qui-Gon.  He was tired…as tired as he could be without a body, but it was…like a drained feeling, an exhaustion of the mind that he could not describe.

                Slowly he set himself to meditate, to gather up as much strength as he could before venturing into the bond once more, and he allowed his mind to turn, to drift into the warmth of the Force, once again finding his calm center much more quickly than before, understanding that there were not any physical distractions to deter him from focusing.

                He thought of his Master, pictured the strong leonine features, imagined the authoritative voice, and recalled the familiar feeling of Qui-Gon's presence through the bond or of a hand on his shoulder.  Funny that he could remember what the felt like even though he technically had no shoulder at the moment.  Obi-Wan allowed himself to dwell on that thought a few moments longer…it felt…warm, safe…reassuring.  He wondered for a moment if he would ever feel Master Qui-Gon's hand at his shoulder ever again; even if his master located him, could they find a way to…to fix him?  For a moment the young padawan's concentration wavered; he hadn't truly considered that since he'd left the House Inais. What would happen if they couldn't…blend him back together?

                Even more troubling was his current captivity…he still was no closer to knowing exactly what Nacena Berayl and this member of the House Inais wanted with him.  He had only gathered the fact that his master's life was in greater danger the longer he remained in the home of Roeh Inais Touko.  Somehow he _had to find a way to warn Master Qui-Gon; if only he could establish and maintain contact through the bond for just a little longer than before…_

                Obi-Wan tried to release his anxieties into the Force; it would do his efforts no good to dwell on his fears.  Making a sound that was akin to a sigh; he stretched out, into the training bond and projected outward.

                _Master?__ Master can you hear me?  Master Qui-Gon!_

                He wasn't sure if the silence he was met with was expected or not…but the slight sinking of his heart signaled his displeasure with it.  Chiding himself for giving up so easily, he marshaled himself once again and reached outward.  _Master Qui-Gon…hear me.  It's Obi-Wan! Master…hear me.  Hear __me. Obi-Wan called out again and again and again until, had he been crying aloud, his throat would be raw from the effort._

                Slowly the cries stopped as his strength began to wane; there was only so much he was capable of in this plane of existence it seemed, and he was coming to the end of what was possible.

                "It won't do you any good, you know."  Obi-Wan refused to look up at his captor's approach, preferring instead to focus on a spot a few feet away, trying to shut out the taunting tone of her voice.  "Oh, come now, Padawan Kenobi…only I can't really call you a padawan any longer…you're no longer confined to the Temple, or your own body for that matter…and you are no longer Qui-Gon Jinn's…"

                _That drew Obi-Wan's attention, and he tried not to show his distress.  What did she mean by that?  Was Master Qui-Gon all right, or was she merely referring to Obi-Wan's separation from him?  He searched Nacena's face, received no answers, wished he could probe with the Force but remembered what pain that would mean._

                _Come on…come on…leave him alone already._

                Obi-Wan tried not to react; he couldn't stifle the first, startled expression that stole across his incorporeal features but he hoped Nacena had not seen; had not sensed his surprise and recognition.  Carefully he did what he could to control his thoughts, to layer in some sort of shields against detection.  He knew that voice!

                Nacena watched her "prisoner" from heavy-lidded eyes, like a feral thing waiting to pounce, inwardly scorning that cursed Jedi reserve.  The apprentice did not rise to the bait, although he was meeting her gaze evenly and steadily as if he would pull the very thoughts from her head.  Slowly she smiled as if in possession of a lovely secret and drew closer.  Obi-Wan was not certain if it was his current state of being or if it was simply that she made no effort to conceal it, but he could almost _see the roiling darkness that consumed her, the same black fingerprint he had felt before the House reception.  She held his gaze a lingering moment longer, silently._

                "What do you want?" He finally asked her, blunt and to the point.

                "What do I want?" Nacena echoed him slightly and her eyes widened a little as if in surprise.  "What I want, Kenobi, will be plain to you soon enough."

                _Wait.  Please wait. Obi-Wan thought desperately, hoping that the brief contact of a moment ago hadn't been just some sort of fluke or a product of his overworked mind._

                _Hurry.__  Can't…hold much longer.  Already the contact was fading._

                Nacena regarded him just seconds more before turning away, her silvery laugh drifting back to him and setting him on edge.  Obi-Wan waited a handful of heartbeats more before tentatively reaching out into the Force.

                Is that…is that you? He realized he yet did not know her name.  Tell me who you are.

                _I am Amagi Iya…Jinn.  Your master is my father.  Her voice was so soft and musical now, unlike the blindingly white pain of her earlier contacts, although Obi-Wan could sense the immense amount of work it was costing her in control.  __I can't…stay…  Her voice was fading quickly._

                Wait!  Don't…I have to tell you…Master Qui-Gon is in danger!  You have to tell him… Obi-Wan's thoughts spilled out into the Force like a stumbling child, and he waited anxiously for an answer, a reply, anything that would tell him his warning had been received and would be heeded.

                But he was met with only silence.

                Silence and an immense weariness.  Quietly Obi-Wan settled down to await his fate.

++++++

                It was a strange scene the Master Healer Obuk walked into when he returned to the room in which his young charge laid.  Obi-Wan was still and silent, as before, the shell of his body existing on the thin thread that yet connected him to his true self, for there must yet be _some connection remaining for his body to continue functioning.  Qui-Gon was deeply asleep on the couch along the far wall, so deeply that Obuk could barely sense his Force-signature; it was like the Jedi Master was nearly comatose himself.  Planing apparently took a lot of energy._

                And then there was Iya Jinn.  Well…maybe she wouldn't take her father's name but Obuk already looked on her as a Jinn.  She had her father's stubborn will that was certain…she was sitting on the floor, in a heavy trance; Obuk could only guess that she was planing, seeking Obi-Wan's…essence, or soul, or…whatever it could be truly called.

                He watched her briefly before crossing over to Obi-Wan, checking the apprentice over carefully, knowing that it was a fine line between life and death for the padawan, and that the balance must be maintained as long as possible to buy Iya and Qui-Gon enough time to find and "repair" the young Jedi.

                "How is he?"

                The quiet voice startled him and he looked up to see Qui-Gon slowly sitting up.

                "Same."  Obuk replied just as quietly, almost as if afraid of disturbing the girl meditating on the floor.  He watched as the tall Jedi Master rose to his feet and crossed over to the bed, touching his hand to his Padawan's shoulder briefly, a small reassuring touch even though the boy could not possibly be aware of it.

                "We _are coming, my Padawan.  Hold on for me…we __will find you."_

                "He's stronger than we give him credit for sometimes, I think." Obuk gave his friend a wise look.  "So far there has been nothing beyond that single seizure to indicate further trauma.  And it seems to me that your daughter has an amazing gift.  Along with inheriting the Jinn tenacity."  The healer smiled gently.  "I do believe she'll save your padawan's life."

                "Tenacity?" Qui-Gon raised an eyebrow.  "You're not usually so…polite, Obuk."  Obuk's smile deepened.

                "Everybody knows you're stubborn as a gundark, Qui.  Just not everybody needs to remind you of it every ten standard minutes."

                "Oh thank you very much, I feel much better." Jinn's tone was a little lighter; there was still the underlying tension, worry over Obi-Wan beneath it but the familiar light banter was a comfort in the middle of it, steadying him.

                "You should probably sleep awhile longer."  Obuk observed, his voice taking on the role of healer a little more than friend.  "You look exhausted."

                "I _do feel better." Qui-Gon was quick to reassure, and indeed he did feel much more in command of himself than after his initial "soul-walking" experience.  "And I promise I will be careful.  But there is a greater danger than just my Padawan's missing…spirit.  There is a Dark presence here on Bahreen, Obuk, and if it is allowed to go free, I fear that there will be grave consequences for the Order.  I __must find the source of this darkness if we are to succeed here.  When my daughter returns," Qui-Gon spared a quick glanced toward the motionless girl sitting nearly in the center of the room.  "Tell her that I will meet her below before the evening meal with the Roeh's family."_

                Qui-Gon rested his hand once more on his apprentice's shoulder.  Obi-Wan looked so…small almost, lying so deathly still on the large bed.  With a gentle squeeze at Obi-Wan's arm, the Jedi Master gave Obuk one more look of trust, and silently strode from the room.

                "Force preserve you, Qui-Gon Jinn."

++++++

                The gardens were always so peaceful no matter the time of day; the pressures of leadership and decision-making always seemed so far away here in this place.  Inais Touko walked the paths of his home with a slow, appreciative step.  His own Force-sensitivity was just at a level where he was aware of the beauty of life around him at every turn, the vibrations of life's Force-signatures humming around him.  He had no true ability; for his daughter to have the sort of gifting the Jedi Master had identified there must have been a deeper influence from her mother's relations; many of her brothers and sisters had been adept-level users.

                But he appreciated the thrum of life all around him and he drank it in, a peace that he knew the Jedi cherished as well. So it was that he greeted very kindly the figure of Qui-Gon Jinn as the honored Jedi Knight joined him on the garden path, falling into step alongside the Roeh and waiting for his acknowledgement.

                "You have a unique grasp of our customs, Master Jedi." Touko said genteelly.  "You speak our language, you know when to speak and when to wait…you honor the House in which you stay and I am curious, just how have you come to be so knowledgeable?"

                It was a question that, Qui-Gon realized, his apprentice must also have been dying to ask, but to Obi-Wan's credit, the young Jedi had not pressed to reopen old wounds, despite the minor inquiry into Ina's holopic before their departure from the Temple.  He was quite sure it would be an…interesting discussion to explain his daughter to Obi-Wan, to say the least.  To explain…Ina.  Returning his focus to the moment at hand, Qui-Gon merely inclined his head slightly, a gesture of respect.

                "I…spent some time here on Bahreen when I was younger, and…I knew a Jedi Knight who was Bahreena."

                "Knew?" The Roeh of the House Inais regarded him curiously, and again Qui-Gon made the small deferential nod before answering.

                "She…was killed." He replied simply, not wishing to get into details.

                "You have my heartfelt condolences." Touko replied honestly, giving Qui-Gon his own sign of respect, an upraised hand making a traditional Bahreena sign of blessing.  "And you have been a welcome presence in this household, Master Jinn."

                "Bash tai." Qui-Gon thanked him just as honestly.  He waited a heartbeat longer.  "With your permission, Roeh, I would like to talk to you about…this dark one you wished us to uncover."

                "Certainly, Master Jedi." Inais Touko was quick to cooperate, something else that tended to lend him toward the trust end of the scale for Qui-Gon, although he remained alert and watchful.  "What do you wish to speak of?"

                "I'd like to ask you about the current political climate…" Qui-Gon prefaced carefully.  "Since you believe there to be an informant in one of the major Houses, there must be some reasoning behind their actions, behind their alliance to the Dark Side of the Force."

                Touko glanced up from the footpath now to regard the taller Jedi frankly.

                "You also know how to ask the hard questions, I see." The slender Bahreena leader sighed a little.  "As you know, Bahreen has served the Jedi Order for many generations, lending out children and our resources to the _Anhri Jotar without reservation.  In the last few years, however, there has been something of a…resistance movement to our support of the Jedi, advocating keeping our children rather than "sacrificing" them.  Many of the smaller, less-well-supported Houses have taken up that line of reasoning; that they would do better to keep as many future citizens of their regions on-world rather than turning them over to what they advocate is an antiquated tradition."_

                "I see." Qui-Gon turned this information over slowly.  If this was indeed the case, then the situation was that much more serious and more complicated than he'd even realized.  "And what of the larger Houses?  What do they say?"

                "Most of them," Inais Touko indicated a small bench along the pathway and he sat, Qui-Gon taking the other end of the bench and gazing at him steadily.  "Are too traditionally-minded for that sort of thinking.  They are the Old Families, House leaders for generations for whom the _proper way of doing things still counts for something, even if most of them __have now abandoned a few things, like Bahreeni in favor of Basic standard as the language of the House, that sort of thing.  But there are a few voices of dissent among some of the large Houses.  Even…"_

                The Roeh allowed his voice to trail off as his gaze was pulled from the Jedi sitting next to him by another Bahreena male, slender and tall but shorter than Touko; however still bearing the stamp of the House on his features.  Qui-Gon followed Touko's gaze and followed the Roeh in rising to his feet.

                "Roeh?" He inquired politely.  Touko glanced at him briefly.

                "Even my own brother, Inais Idriah, speaks of such notions.  Personally I find it very insulting."

                _Insulting?  Qui-Gon wasn't sure if that was reassuring or not.  After all, this was the very man who had refused his own daughter to the Order simply on the principle of tradition, that the eldest child would rule the House when the time came.  While he felt he could trust the Bahreena Roeh, he still wasn't sure to what degree, and so remained silent, simply watching the approaching member of the House Inais alertly._

                "Peace be on you." The younger Inais spoke first, and Touko returned the greeting.  "I see I have returned to guests, brother."

                "Yes…I present to you Jedi Master Qui-Gon Jinn.  His Learner is the one in Bala's room; he's been injured and we are seeing to him until they return to Coruscant."

                "Bala will remain with me; it is no trouble." A slight bow.  "Master Jinn, Peace be on you.  I am Inais Idriah, Third in Line and my brother's caretaker." The Bahreena gave his sibling a mischievous smile, and Touko merely shook his head.

                "Peace be to you, as well." Qui-Gon answered smoothly, but watchfully.  There was something…something that he did not trust about this man, and he carefully filed that observation away for further study.  He would continue this conversation with the Roeh at a more opportune time but for now he observed the polite niceties of greeting and bowed deferentially to the member of his host's House.  "It is a pleasure to meet you."

                "It is always an honor to have…guests in our home.  Welcome to Bahreen."

                Qui-Gon couldn't contain the slight shiver that passed through his frame; there was a chill undercurrent in the voice that made him wonder just how sincere the youngest ruling clansman of the House Inais was being.

                Perhaps Inais Touko had good reason to be distressed.


	20. Firstborn of the House Amagi

NINETEEN

                _Dinner conversation is likely to be…interesting.  Qui-Gon mused quietly to himself as he put on a fresh tunic, preparing for the evening meal.  When he'd returned to the chamber in which Obi-Wan laid, Obuk had informed him that Iya had gone below with Inais Cherida, presumably to dress a little more appropriately for a formal House dinner._

                In the midst of his preparations, Qui-Gon caught sight of himself in a mirror, and he paused a moment, allowing the reflection to speak to him much as a memory.  The eyes were the pretty much the same; certainly they had seen their share of sorrow but had not lost their piercing depths.  _Little grayer these days. He mused, inspecting hair and beard with a slight turn of his head.  The beard had begun…well actually that had begun as a grieving thing after Ina's death, an old Bahreena custom, and truly he had never wanted to give it up.  He was not the fresh-faced young Jedi Knight who had loved her and given her a child twenty-two years ago; he would not pretend that man still existed.  Perhaps it was a harsh way to look at himself, but after twenty years of a loss unofficially mourned over, it was sometimes what carried him forward from day to day to be a servant of the Force._

                To take the second chance Ina had granted him with the rescue of Obi-Wan Kenobi.

                "_Are you so certain that I must be the one to train him?  Won't the Council decide that for him?"___

_                The squirming three-month old in Ina's arms already possessed a strong Force-signature—and a stubborn will to live—that impressed Qui-Gon greatly.  A small shock of reddish hair and a pair of sea-storm eyes graced the delicate infant's features.  A small fist reached out and clenched around Qui-Gon's forefinger, a grip tight enough to prompt the Jedi to keep his hand where it was, resting gently against and covering the child's chest._

_                "The Council will not argue my vision, Qui."  Ina's voice, like the rest of her, was underpinned with a melodic grace that just seemed to…fill everything and block out all protest.  Qui-Gon simply considered the promise she was asking of him almost as if from outside the room, watching himself from a distance as he stroked the child's cheek with a thumb, his forefinger still clenched in the baby's fist.  "His is a destiny that far outstrips either of us…any of us."_

_                "Even the __Chosen__ One?"  Qui-Gon asked quietly.  He had begun to consider the old prophecies, begun to find some curiosity in them and even some light.  However Ina had already made it quite clear to him that she did not consider this babe to be the child of prophecy of whom he spoke._

_                "Perhaps." She shrugged simply.  "I only know that he holds a great place in the turning of Time, Qui-Gon. He must be trained for the Light."_

_                Ina was holding the child out to him; startled, Qui-Gon carefully disengaged his forefinger from the boy's grasp and accepted him from her hands.  Almost within moments the baby boy stopped fussing and closed his eyes, safely sleeping in the harbor of the Jedi's strong arms._

_                "What is he called?"_

_                "The name his parents gave him is Obi-Wan; he is of the Kenobi line."_

_                "Kenobi?"  Jinn looked up now, shocked.  "I thought the Kenobi clan had been destroyed; Master Yoda saw their light go out on Jurashe."_

_                "Master Yoda may be the wisest of the Council, Qui, but he's not infallible. You of all people know that.  I'm taking him home to Bahreen; he will remain hidden until such time as you come for him." Ina turned away now, her voice taking on a note of sadness that made Qui-Gon stand stock-still, breathless._

_                "So you still intend to leave Coruscant, go back to Bahreen, to…to forget me?"_

_                "I will _never_ forget you, Qui-Gon Jinn." Ina did not face him, but her shoulders trembled a little.  "And yes, I must return to Bahreen.  For if I do not, my House will be disgraced and you will be released by the Council.  I can't do that, Qui. Not even for the sake of my heart."_

_                "And…what of my heart?"_

_                "I am Bahreena; I do this for the sake of your heart, Qui."  She did turn now, and the gaze she turned upon him was one so exquisite, so delicately loving that it left him reeling within.  "For your entire life, you have sought to serve the Order, to _be_ Jedi. You are__ Jedi.  How can I tear apart the soul for whom I've lost all things? You must stay; Qui…your destiny is in your arms this moment.  Our time has passed.  You must accept it."_

_                "No!  I will speak to the Council…make them understand…"_

_                "The Council has already granted my request, Qui.  Not even you can change the Code."  Ina placed her palm against his cheek, a delicate touch.  "Obi-Wan will not yet be safe here on Coruscant; there are still a few on Jurashe who know that a member of the Kenobi family still lives.  I will take him with me…and when he is to be brought here again, you will come for him."_

_                "Ina…"_

_                "Swear it!"  The Bahreena Jedi's voice spoke with all the command of a House Roeh on her world; it was an irresistible force, an iron will within the velvet of melody.  Qui-Gon glanced at the child in his arms briefly, still sleeping contentedly.  He looked back to the woman he loved, his heart sinking like a stone in the midst of a vast lonely ocean.  But he finally knew that there was little he could do to rescue that drowning man._

_                "I swear by the Force, I will come for Obi-Wan._"

                It had been the least he could do for her, to grant her the last request she would make of him before departing in exile from the Jedi Temple.  Two years later he would fulfill it upon the news of her death.  Obi-Wan had been an energetic, inquisitive toddler with sharp blue-grey eyes that noticed everything and topped off with a mop of ginger hair.

                Qui-Gon shook himself from his thoughts as another figure appeared in the reflection behind him, and he turned from the mirror to face Obuk.

                "What?  Is it Obi-Wan?"  Quickly Qui-Gon fastened the tunic, prepared to return to his padawan's side if necessary, but the Master Healer stayed him with an upraised hand.

                "Relax, Qui-Gon." Obuk reassured.  "I just want to talk."

                "As you know, Obuk, I'm expected at the Roeh's table tonight.  I don't have time for one of your philosophical debates."  Qui-Gon snatched up his outer tunic and pulled it on, layering the shoulder tabs over it and winding the broad sash around his waist.

                "Philosophical?" The Master Healer shook his head a little, favoring his friend with a slightly amused expression.  "Hardly.  What I want to talk to you about is rather practical actually."

                "That'll be a first." Jinn snorted as he fastened the belt in place over the sash, attaching his lightsaber and sitting down to pull on a boot.  But the expression he turned on his peer was unmistakably curious.  "Well?"

                "It's about your daughter."  Obuk said simply, letting his words hang on the air for a moment before moving ahead.  "She tells me you intend to take her back to Coruscant with you.  Have you considered the Council's reaction to Iya, Qui?"

                "What about it?" Jinn straightened in his chair, pinning the other Jedi with the sort of piercing gaze that would have made most other people cringe.  "Iya has been kept from her family long enough.  Her place is with me."

                "And if the Council rules to deny her that place?"  Obuk raised an eyebrow.  "Qui-Gon Jinn, you know as well as I do that if you take Iya back to the Temple that it's liable to touch off a ruckus.  Now I know that's nothing new for you…"

                "Don't start." The tall Jedi raised a forefinger warningly.

                "All I'm saying is; you'd better prepare Iya for what lies ahead.  Showing up to report with your love-child in tow isn't likely exactly going to be an endearing experience for Ina _or the Council.  You're going to have to start thinking like a father, now.  Just because you're hard-headed enough to challenge the Council over your past indiscretions doesn't necessarily mean that Iya will be."  Obuk folded his lanky frame into a nearby chair as if to underscore the fact that he didn't intend to drop this just yet.  "And _she_ is the one who'll bear the brunt of the Council's decision, Qui, not you."_

                "Since when have I ever worried about endearing myself to the Council?"  Qui-Gon's question, while rhetorical, was honestly enough spoken.  As Obuk had already observed, it wouldn't be the first contest of wills the tall Jedi Master had waged with the twelve-member Jedi High Council and with any sort of talent for prediction it was easy enough to see that it certainly wouldn't be the last.

                "Thank you for proving my point."  Obuk leaned forward now and waved a graceful hand in Jinn's general direction.  "This time you must, Qui.  For the sake of your daughter's well-being you're going to have to act outside yourself and protect her first.  If the Council rules against you, she will be vulnerable, and you know it.  That she's survived this long on her own with her abilities uncorrupted is a great blessing of the Force."

                Qui-Gon paused a moment in pulling on his other boot, letting it fall to the floor momentarily as he put his foot back down and looked over at the willowy Healer thoughtfully.

                "You think I should…delay her coming to Coruscant entirely?"  He asked quietly, anxiously.  At least, Obuk knew it was anxiously.  Very few could read Qui-Gon Jinn as he could, and he recognized the troubled worry lurking just behind the self-assured bearing.

                "I don't know."  The Healer answered gently, a slight conciliatory shrug of slender shoulders.  "Perhaps not, but I do suggest you talk to someone first.  Say, Adi Gallia.  Master Gallia has always pretty much been in your corner, Qui.  She was pretty close to Ina back then and she might have a bit more compassionate approach to the situation rather than a dictatorial one."

                "Master Gallia voted right along with the rest of the Council to accept Ina's separation from the Order…"  Qui-Gon hedged defensively and Obuk raised both eyebrows.

                "…in order to save your place among us, don't forget.  Master Gallia felt it was more important for you to stay with the Jedi than it was for you to keep your heart, and perhaps even that is cruel but it was also entirely correct." Obuk tilted his head back in the direction of the room in which Jinn's apprentice laid.  "Obi-Wan is living proof of that."

                At that, Jinn's expression softened and the tall Master sighed slowly.  After a beat, he leaned back down and retrieved his boot, dressing his other foot quickly.

                "Ina was right about Obi-Wan." He agreed matter-of-factly.  "He's become every bit the Jedi she said he would be.  The Force…"  Qui-Gon stood now and crossed the room to where his outer robe lay strewn over the back of a chair.  "…has a very special destiny for him."

                "The Force has a special destiny for us all, Master Jinn."  Obuk grinned a bit as he stood up.  "I'll let you tend to yours but at least think about what I said.  Personally I think the Temple is the best place for Iya; her abilities are rare and raw and need definition.  But the best outcome isn't going to be achieved without your best effort in her interests."

                "As usual, the Healer tutors the Master."  Jinn arranged his outer robe until it was comfortably draped across his broad shoulders.  "I will consider it, old friend."

                "Good!" Obuk answered cheerfully.  "Now get downstairs and greet your daughter before you have the outside distractions of the Roeh's family."

                "Obi-Wan…"  Qui-Gon started to say, but Obuk rested a hand at his friend's shoulder.

                "I'll summon you if anything at all happens to change.  You know you have my word at that, Qui. Go on; take care of what you must."

                Drawing a deep, steadying breath, Qui-Gon nodded in acknowledgement and strode off to do as Obuk suggested—to find Iya and speak with her apart from the others before the evening to come.

++++++

               The memory was an old one, or as old as one might expect of a young man just turned twenty-two, but it was imprinted on Obi-Wan's mind like fine etching on cut glass.

                He might've been four…maybe five Standard years old at the time, part of a crèche clan.  Barely taller than Master Yoda himself, who taught his lessons along with all the other younglings, Obi-Wan had been intensely curious about…everything.  He could be counted on to be the one child out of the entire crèche clan to be distracted by something new; or to wander off to explore, or to stop and stare at a new wonder in the Room of a Thousand Fountains while the rest of the clan moved along without him.

                Perhaps it was this innate sense of wonder at the workings of the universe that had endeared him to the Crèche Masters; perhaps it was simply a sense of responsibility on the part of his Jedi caregivers, but for whatever reason there seemed to be an extra sort of guardianship when it came to this small ginger-headed child with the inquisitive blue-grey eyes.  Obi-Wan had never questioned it; even now he only believed it to be a grace of the Force.

                The encounter itself was mild compared to the sort of mischief most little boys could get into; Obi-Wan had wandered off from the rest of the clan and had simply gotten himself turned around while exploring the myriad pathways in the Room of a Thousand Fountains.  Even in such a large area, as it was an enclosed space, someone would have eventually found him. But at the age of four it seemed forbidding and lonely and he'd begun to cry.

                _"What's wrong, Little One?"  The voice was kindly and deep.  Obi-Wan scrubbed the back of his hand across damp eyelashes and looked up.  And up! The owner of the voice was tall, as well._

_                "Losted." He answered truthfully.  "And I don't knowed the way back."_

_                The tall man knelt down and looked at him intently for a long moment before speaking again._

_                "Whenever you feel lost, Obi-Wan, you must…" The voice paused, the expression becoming thoughtful, as if looking for something.  "…you must tell the Force, and it will lead you home."  A forefinger tapped lightly against the boy's chest._

_                Obi-Wan sniffled a little, round eyes looking into deeply __midnight__ ones._

_                "Tell the Force?"  A puzzled, thoughtful expression crossed the innocent features.  "But I just telled you.  Can you showed me the way home?"_

_                A pause…and a smile, followed by laughter deep and delighted.  Qui-Gon Jinn rose to his feet, offering his hand to the small ginger-headed crècheling._

_                "Sometimes, Little Obi-Wan, the Force will answer with the hand of a friend._"

                The hand of a friend would be very much appreciated just about now, Obi-Wan reflected bleakly.  "Lost" didn't even begin to describe the feeling.  The thought came again, more insistent: _You must tell the Force, and it will lead you home_.  Settling his mind, Obi-Wan stretched out into the Force, casting outward, despite feeling a little childish and almost a little silly.  Still...it _was his master's advice, wasn't it?  Letting the warmth of the Force flow through the very core of his being, he cast out, _I'm lost.  And I want to go home.  Take me home to my Master_._

                The peace that answered him was deep and undivided…and soothing.  Smiling a little to himself, Obi-Wan settled down to await…the hand of a friend.

++++++

                It was about what Qui-Gon would have expected of a formal dinner in a major Bahreena House; the room elegantly appointed and situated to please as well as function.  He entered the room well ahead of the Roeh and his family; that too was standard House protocol.

                What he did not expect was the sight of his daughter, standing near the window and dressed after the traditional manner of a House firstborn, and looking so very, very much like her mother.  Qui-Gon hesitated a moment, simply watching her as she carried on a polite conversation with the Roeh's chief advisor, also present for the meal.  Iya was, quite simply, exquisite…grace incarnate.  Qui-Gon inclined his head a little, watching her handle the long-winded counselor with a great deal of diplomacy and easy charm, and after a few moments an amused smile twitched at the corners of his mouth.

                Crossing the room in a series of quick, broad strides, he was at his daughter's side, and Iya looked up at him, immensely grateful.  Turning toward the Roeh's advisor, Iya said graciously,

                "Counsel Rhiad, may I present to you Jedi Master Qui-Gon Jinn.  He and his Learner are here to choose for the Jedi Order from the current Hopefuls among us.  Master Jinn, Counsel Rhiad Mokri.  Counsel Rhiad is Prime Voice to the Roeh of this House and several other Houses in this Section."

                _In other words, Qui-Gon reflected cheerfully to himself, _a pompous windbag but likely one of the most influential speakers among the Houses_.  With a knowing glance to his daughter, Jinn bowed his head graciously to the shorter Bahreena._

                "Ketero v'ndi tai." Qui-Gon greeted Rhiad flawlessly.  "It is a pleasure to be among your people once again, Counsel."

                "It would be, for you." Rhiad replied, boldly.  "But not for the families of the children you steal for your Order.  It is a sad day for them and as a father I cannot say that I am happy to see you here, Master Jinn."

                Iya's eyes widened; even with the protracted discussion she had carried on with the advisor, she had not expected such a reaction.  Shifting quickly to form a response, she was surprised when her father stayed her with an upraised hand.

                "We have never taken a child to be trained who was not first offered to us, Counsel."  Qui-Gon replied quietly but steadily, unshakably.  Rhiad simply sniffed disdainfully and inclined his head to Iya as a House daughter.

"If you will excuse me, Amagi.  I have…duties to attend to."  With that, the outspoken counselor turned on his heel and strode away.

                "I'm sorry, Dajo." Iya apologized, her expression crestfallen.  "I did not expect you to be treated so shamefully in a major House."

                "It's all right." Jinn replied, even as he followed the movements of the Bahreena counselor with his eyes, taking note of the next few people the man spoke to.  "It would appear that we are the…_Anhri Jotar no longer in the eyes of many Bahreena."  Considering his own words for a moment, knowing from hard experience that such resentments could easily spill over into actual hostilities, the Jedi Master turned his gaze back toward Iya.  "You will keep your lineage a secret here, understood?  Address me formally in the presence of others."_

                Iya bristled a little but nodded.  Her father was obviously someone accustomed to giving commands and having them respected.  But aside from that, he was _right.  If things should turn violent here…_

                "Yes, Master Jinn."  She answered graciously, and despite himself, Qui-Gon had to smile.

                "Even the best diplomats need a rescue on occasion.  Force help me, I was never that, but your mother knew just how to get me out of the worst spots I was in.  I'll have to tell you sometime about a mission we undertook together to Belan Alteyer years ago.  You would appreciate your mother's…forthrightness."

                The tall Jedi turned toward the large picture window, now, and Iya drifted along after him.

                "Do you think it will really turn into a rift between the Jedi and the Bahreena?  Our Houses have served the Order for centuries.  And in turn we have enjoyed the favor of the Jedi and the protection of the Force."  Iya glanced up at her father's profile before following his gaze out onto the perfectly kept grounds.  "To lose that way of life would be dangerous for us all, I think."

                "I agree." Qui-Gon said at length, clasping his hands placidly before him.  "But the Force does not abandon its own, as Inais Cherida observed to me before.  Dangerous or not, our future lies within its will…both for the Jedi and for the Houses of Bahreen."

                "Da—Master Jedi." Iya caught the slip, and Qui-Gon was hard pressed not to smile at it; already "papa" was more familiar to Iya than anything more formal and it warmed his heart despite the frosty atmosphere surrounding them.  "I have news for you.  I made a small contact with your Learner, with Obi-Wan."

                Qui-Gon felt his heart nearly leap from his chest and he snapped a gaze on his daughter that was both hopeful and yet…fierce, somehow, Iya decided.  Fiercely protective and she pondered for a moment if that was his father's heart for the apprentice—and whether it would be his father's heart for his daughter in time.

                "Do you know where he is?" Jinn kept his voice low; no need to broadcast this in a possibly hostile social climate.  Iya shook her head a little bit.

                "Not yet.  The contact was not strong, and Obi-Wan was very hard to hear.  He's being kept prisoner somehow; that much I've discovered.  But the place was unfamiliar to me, and finally I couldn't hold the soul-walk any longer and I had to return.  Master Obuk directed me to prepare for the evening meal as you asked, and this is the first opportunity I've had to speak to you of it."  Iya explained without elaboration, taking her cue from Qui-Gon and keeping her voice low and discreet.  "He seemed distressed, Dajo, but it was not for himself."

                _Not for himself.  Qui-Gon pondered the words for a moment as he once again looked out over the grounds, watching a pair of small squirrel-like creatures scamper and play on the picture-perfect lawn.  The warning was like a prickle at the back of his mind, like cold fingers sweeping across his skin, and he very nearly had to suppress a physical shiver at the sensation._

                The moment passed, however and Qui-Gon offered Iya a small nod as he offered up his worries for his divided apprentice up to the Force itself.

                "There are…other matters to discuss as well.  Your return to Coruscant with me…"

'Other matters' would have to wait; as another familiar presence was sensed.  Qui-Gon turned away from the picture window and motioned for his daughter to accompany him.  Taking station at the edge of a small "pathway" prepared of scented flower petals and lighted candles, Jinn awaited the entrance of the Roeh and his family.  It was a cue that the other few guests picked up on and they too lined the doorway accordingly.

                "Thank you, Amagi Iya." Qui-Gon said softly, and Iya glanced up at him and smiled softly.  Gone was the fierce look; it was replaced by an expression of immense gratitude and…of peace.  Truly the Force was with her father.  Inclining her head graciously after the manner of a House daughter, Iya allowed the smile to deepen.

                "Most welcome, kind Master Jedi."

                The children were first; from time immemorial Bahreena children had been honored as gifts and givers, both of joy and for the wealth they represented to their families and to the Anhri Jotar.  So often they would enter a room ahead of their parents as a sign of both their families' pride in them and as symbolism of their honored place to the Order.

                As before, Le and Kor were delighted to see Qui-Gon, and in perfect unison the Inais children bowed to him just as they'd witnessed their Jedi guests do upon their arrival, and the Jedi master smiled down at them.  As the young ones looked up at him expectantly, Qui-Gon allowed for a more "serious" expression and bowed deeply to them in turn, which then produced a series of joyful giggles in the brother and sister.

                The children were followed by an older youth, a boy, who bore strong resemblance to his father, Inais Idriah—as well as his father's arrogant bearing.  Qui-Gon's initial assessment of the House third-in-line was well borne out by the swaggering attitude of the young Bahreena now passing him by.  Passing him by indeed; the boy did not even take the time to acknowledge Qui-Gon's presence, something considered terribly rude in a major House, and nearly a sacrilege when it came to the presence of a Jedi.

                Idriah himself was the next to enter, and Qui-Gon nodded his head deferentially to the man despite the cool reception of the man's son.  Inais Idriah simply granted him a small sardonic smile before entering the main part of the room and Qui-Gon knew instinctively that the son was acting on the implicit instructions of the father.  Hardly surprising, given the Roeh's description of his brother.  _Almost as if he knows something.  Qui-Gon mused._

                However the tall Jedi did not have time to peruse that thought further before the formal entrance of the House Roeh and his wife.  Inais Cherida entered on her husband's arm, clad in the rich dress of her station, embroidered silks and elaborate coiffure.  The Roeh himself was dressed in the full traditional garb of his House, unlike his brother who not chosen observe such tradition.  Pausing along with Cherida before their honored guest, Touko bowed deeply in respect to the Jedi Master.

                "Ketero v'ndi nashtai, Jotar Jinn."  Cherida actually spoke first, wishing peace upon Qui-Gon's evening.  Qui-Gon smiled back; for the woman's introverted personality, she was a gracious hostess and quite compassionate.  She had not failed to keep track of her guests' needs, nor to inquire after Obi-Wan's condition.  Gentle and sincere, Cherida was the perfect governess of her House.

                "Bash tai.  Anria san keterai nuh."  _Thank you.  I am honored to share your peace in this House_.

                "I must apologize for the behavior of my nephew." Cherida said immediately, her dutiful instincts prompting her to make amends for something taking place beneath _her roof.  "Bala is..."_

                "…too much like my brother, I am afraid, Master Jinn."  Touko spoke up now, turning his head slightly to watch as Idriah and son took their places at table.  Qui-Gon followed the Roeh's gaze with just his eyes, not turning enough to draw the younger Inais' attention.  "Bala has not been taught the proper respect for his station.  I will see to it that you are not insulted in this manner in my house again."

                "I have no desire to cause friction in your family, Roeh." Qui-Gon assured the Bahreena leader.  "I'm fully aware of the hospitality of your House.  I have taken no offense."

                "It is…very gracious of you." Touko said thankfully, indicating with a slight motion that the Jedi should accompany them.  "I am grateful for your consideration."  Qui-Gon inclined his head gracefully in turn.

                "May I present to you Amagi Iya, of the House Amagi."  He glanced back toward his daughter, who stepped forward and bowed her head briefly.  "She has been of some assistance in caring for my Padawan.  I did not think it would be looked upon unkindly if she joined us this evening."

                "Not at all." Touko replied with a gentle smile.  "You are welcome at my table as a guest of my House, Amagi Iya."

                Qui-Gon followed along a pace apart as the Roeh motioned them forward, and he noted with no surprise that Counsel Rhiad Mokri was seated just to the left of Inais Idriah.  Already the Prime Voice was bending the younger Inais' ear, and the unabashedly disdainful looks directed toward him left very little to the imagination as to the topic of conversation.

                Inclining his head graciously toward them despite their obvious opposition, Qui-Gon took his place at Touko's side, Iya settling down to his left.  _Forget conversation being interesting_... The tall Jedi observed to himself silently.  _Explosive might be more like it._


	21. Fading

TWENTY

"You just missed the most boring diplomatic dinner in history." Qui-Gon said softly, settling into a chair next to Obi-Wan's bed. "But don't think you're getting away with anything, Padawan." His voice was light but his expression betrayed his worry. "I'll see to it that you make up for your absenteeism."

A thin shaft of moonlight from a nearby window graced his apprentice's motionless form, a silvery caress of ginger hair and stilled features, upswept lashes against pallid skin. The Jedi master leaned forward, one broad palm coming to rest upon curled, limp fingers. Gathering the languid hand within his own, Qui-Gon paused to stroke his thumb over smooth, youthful skin unscathed as yet by the weathering of time. Almost by instinct, he found the scar on Obi-Wan's wrist, a small mark left behind from a training exercise, remembering the incident with a small shake of his head.

"From the way you acted when you brought him in, you would've thought he was bleeding to death." Obuk's voice sounded behind him, a throaty chuckle accompanying the statement.

"It was the first time _my_ Padawan was injured; you could've given me a break, you know." Jinn replied just as lightly, turning his head slightly to acknowledge the presence of his friend just behind and to his right.

"Hmm…no. Not really." Obuk placed a hand at Qui-Gon's shoulder. "And if I know anything about your natural charm I'm sure dinner wasn't exactly all that boring." That brought an outright snort and another headshake from Qui-Gon.

"Many of the Bahreena are being deceived into believing that we steal their children for the Order." He prefaced, and Obuk shrugged a little.

"It's not a new rumor." The slender Healer replied, and beneath his touch, he could feel the tightening of Qui-Gon's shoulders. "Well, how often have you gathered younglings to the crèches?"

"Often enough to know that this has never been a problem on Bahreen." Jinn replied; thumb still stroking absently along Obi-Wan's hand. "The ancient bonds between us are being tested, although it is not yet clear by whom or for what purpose."

"The Roeh's delightful relatives had no light to shed on the matter?" Obuk inquired, and at Qui-Gon's sudden shift in the chair to face him, the Healer chuckled again. "Iya makes a good conversationalist. Unlike her father."

"Sithspit, Obuk!" Jinn exclaimed, pausing to draw a deep breath. "Well I'm not certain as yet. Inais Idriah and his son are certainly disdainful of my…of _our_…presence here, but I'm not yet convinced that either of them are the House informer the Roeh spoke to me about." Midnight blue eyes were thoughtful. "I've instructed Iya to keep her heritage quiet for the time being."

"Wise precaution." Obuk remarked, folding his arms across his chest and wandering a few paces away. "Do you really think it will get that ugly?"

"My feelings tell me…" Qui-Gon frowned tightly as he spoke the words. "…that it is very likely."

Within his gentle grip, the slight tremor of Obi-Wan's hand was the only warning either man received before a sudden thick, choking rasp passed through the padawan's throat, followed by several heaving, nearly airless gasps. "Obuk!" Qui-Gon's shout for help was unnecessary; the Healer already sprung to Obi-Wan's side. Hands placed upon the young Jedi's chest, the Healer reached out into the Force, assessing. Another series of choked breaths followed. "Hurry!" Qui-Gon snapped anxiously. Obi-Wan's lips had taken on a frightening bluish tint, stark against the sharply pale features.

"In my kit," Obuk said calmly, eyes closing as he directed a gentle Force-touch to aid Kenobi's weakened lungs. "…is a stimulation unit with a medication adapter."

Already on his feet, Qui-Gon moved to snatch up the little case and rummage through it rapidly. Handing the device to the Healer, he watched anxiously as Obuk parted the layers of Obi-Wan's thin undertunic, placing the unit upon the padawan's chest and activating it. After several tense, anxious moments, a deeper breath was taken, a shaky exhalation, followed by another and another. The blue began to recede from Obi-Wan's lips, and Qui-Gon found himself releasing a tightly held breath of his own.

"What happened?" He asked; blinking as his mind caught up to the shock.

"His heart." Obuk replied placidly, moving now to get into the kit himself, taking a small cylinder of medication and attaching it to the stimulator. "It's under a tremendous amount of strain in this state, and it's losing the ability to maintain a normal rhythm."

"Which means…?"

"Which means, my friend," Obuk glanced up from his patient briefly. "That you have much less time to get him back than you did ten minutes ago." While the slender Healer sustained a calm, logical manner, his words were direct and pointed. "The stimulator will help stabilize Obi-Wan's heart and keep it beating normally but it's really only a temporary solution. Time is running out for him, Qui. If we can't locate him and return him to his body…he won't have a body to return _to_."

"Merciful Force…" It was part exclamation, part supplication, and Qui-Gon reached up to pinch the bridge of his nose, trying to ward off the headache he could feel sneaking up on him. Obuk paused in his care of the apprentice to attend to the master, guiding Qui-Gon back to the chair and placing fingertips delicately along both temples. Stretching into the Force, Obuk directed a soothing ribbon of healing warmth against the rising ache.

"Let me be a meddling friend long enough to suggest you get some rest." Obuk said gently. "Especially if you intend to repeat that stunt you pulled earlier with Iya to look for Obi-Wan. I can tell you haven't completely recovered from the first attempt."

"Never mind that." Qui-Gon waved it off, but Obuk shook his head firmly.

"No arguments. It's late, and you aren't indestructible, Qui-Gon Jinn. Obi-Wan will be all right long enough for you to lie down awhile. Go on…get some sleep." Obuk declared. Stubborn shoulders abruptly slumped a little, a tacit acknowledgement of the exhaustion still nipping at him, and Qui-Gon finally nodded slightly in agreement. Obuk patted his friend's shoulder briefly. "Good. Glad you could see it _my_ way. Rest. And in the morning you and Iya can give it another go."

Qui-Gon glanced up at the Healer with a hint of impatience, but then his gaze was drawn away once again to his padawan, moving once again to clasp Obi-Wan's wrist briefly before rising to his feet. Silently he reached up and placed his hand on Obuk's shoulder, a wordless gratitude the Healer acknowledged with small nod, and then reluctantly the tall Jedi retreated from the room.

* * *

_I am Amagi Iya…Jinn. Your master is my father_.

The words returned to Obi-Wan's mind, spoken in those melodic tones, and he would have shaken his head if he could have. Curiosity returned as he had nothing else to occupy his time, and he wondered at the history behind those words. The girl whose Force-signature was so blindingly bright, who had contacted him from half a galaxy away, was Master Qui-Gon's daughter.

The holograph that his Master carried with him must be that of her mother, Obi-Wan realized abruptly. Once again, he wondered who she had been, and how she could have carried on such a liaison with his Master, without Qui-Gon's release from the Order. Whatever the circumstances, there was no doubt that they had produced an amazing child. Obi-Wan had to admit that he had never encountered such raw power before, not even among some of the most talented Jedi masters.

A memory tickled at the back of his mind, like a whisper. Something that told him that he was not completely separate from the events tumbling in his thoughts. Obi-Wan concentrated, reaching into the Force, stretching for the recollection that just danced at the periphery of his awareness. There was a…house…covered in some sort of ivy, and a pathway that curved up the slight rise to the door…

_"Obi!" The stamp of an equally small foot accompanied the small, shrill voice. Then there was another voice, firm and insistent._

_"Obi-Wan Kenobi. Bash Fasia san bey ohta tai!"_

Obi-Wan "blinked" slowly, turning the tiny fragment of memory over in his mind. With a start, he realized abruptly that the language in which he'd been addressed was Bahreeni. _Bash Fasia san bey ohta tai_? What did that mean? Master Qui-Gon would know. With faint amusement, he remembered that Iya Jinn would as well.

The amusement faded a second later as another realization dawned on him. Not only had his _Master_ been on Bahreen before, _so had he_. As a child, but he had been here…and with that came the thought that at one time he must have understood the language of the Bahreena himself, at least in part. A whole host of other questions was attached to this revelation, including an instinctive curiosity about his own origin. Was he natural-born Bahreena, then? Had Master Qui-Gon been one of the Jedi who had gathered him to the Temple crèche clans? Obi-Wan cast his mind back to that little shred of memory, the voice speaking to him in Bahreeni. He couldn't see the face of the speaker, but the voice was…warm and musical despite the disciplining nature of the memory.

Memories and questions suddenly vanished from consideration as a searing pain savagely captured his attention. Obi-Wan looked down as if expecting to see his chest impaled upon a sharp blade or something of the like, and just as quickly he realized what he was feeling was an echo of his physical body, back in the House Inais. _Force help me_…

_You're not completely disconnected, you know_... Nacena Berayl's words came back to him: _One simply has to know how to find that slender link_. Apparently, that link yet existed. Obi-Wan "closed" his eyes, trying to reach back along the painful echo, trying to see what was happening.

The image flashed, so quickly, that he almost wasn't sure of what he'd seen. Master Qui-Gon…and Obuk. Healer Obuk was here! The willowy Jedi healer was in motion at his side…abruptly both the eerie shadow pain and the vision faded away, and Obi-Wan was left with the lingering impression of danger tingling at the edge of his awareness.

The link that kept him alive…was fading.

* * *

The shadows cast from the single grouping of scented candles were long in the bedchamber as Qui-Gon stepped in; it was apparent to him that Inais Cherida had dispatched her servant to attend to her guest and he had to smile briefly at that. Asvhi, as with most of her people, was singularly graceful and aesthetic in her duties. Qui-Gon well remembered Amagi Ina's affinity for anything light and lovely. Candles, the scented balm she wore in her hair as the one luxury she allowed herself as a Jedi, pennit flowers in her rooms. Art, music…so many of the things that his own quarters with Obi-Wan often lacked.

Perhaps he had allowed their place in his life to die with her, the simple pleasures that had adorned her presence. It was not something he often thought of. However, with his promise to Ina ringing in his memory and his heart lying in motionless time with his Padawan's body, he thought of it now as the candles' scent reached his senses.

Obi-Wan's abilities as a Jedi had progressed much as Ina had predicted for him in the hushed goodbyes spoken upon a remote landing platform districts apart from the Jedi Temple. Obi-Wan had been tucked within Ina's arm, fussing as if somehow he understood the parting taking place. Ina's escort from Coruscant had been impatient, no doubt under Council orders to take her and the baby boy to Bahreen with all haste. She had breathed her soft farewell into his ear…brushed her lips against his jawline…there was the smell of the fragrant balm in her hair and his fingers caressed her face as she turned away.

There were no more pennit flowers after that.

Still, there seemed to be a graceful imprint of Amagi Ina upon the soul of Obi-Wan Kenobi, just as light and lovely that seemed to lend the young Jedi an innate appreciation for beauty and truth. Qui-Gon smiled as he pulled off his outer robe and laid it aside. Obi-Wan didn't appear to have any memory of his two-year guardian, but nonetheless Ina had found a way to leave her mark on him. Every day that he watched his apprentice draw closer to the Trials, to Knighthood, he could see her fingerprint. Despite the anticipation of his promises fulfilled, there was still a melancholy moment to be had with making Obi-Wan a Jedi Knight…it would be like losing her all over again. So far, he'd managed to push that selfish thought down inside himself, but Qui-Gon knew it was only a matter of time now before it would surface again.

Qui-Gon finished unwinding the long sash and shrugged his way out of his tunic, draping it overtop the long brown robe. He shook his head slightly as he realized Obi-Wan did not remember the childhood playmate from those long, lazy afternoons spent here with Iya, any more than Kenobi remembered her mother. Innocent children playing simple games in the Bahreena sunshine, under Ina's watchful eye. A smile touched Qui-Gon's lips as he tried to picture the two toddlers keeping her busy. If the stories from Obi-Wan's crèche-masters were close to being true he was certain that between them, Obi-Wan and Iya had given Ina a few scares along the way, for he could also see such mischief in his daughter, despite her gentle demeanor.

The smile faded as Qui-Gon wondered at the rightness of keeping the details of Obi-Wan's past a secret all these years. For all the power inherent in Iya's initial contacts with his apprentice, Obi-Wan had not recalled those sunny Bahreena days, had not remembered chattering incessantly in Bahreeni on the journey to Coruscant at the age of two, or being carefully guided into speaking Basic Standard over the "native" language learned from his…surrogate mother.

Stripped down and clad in a pair of sleep pants and loose inner tunic, the tall Jedi reached out a hand and passed it lightly before him. The candles guttered and flickered out, the wicks snuffed with a mild prompting of the Force, and Qui-Gon made his way into the bed, quite possibly the most comfortable accommodation he had rested on in a very long time. Despite the weight of the situation here on Bahreen, and the worry he carried for Obi-Wan, sleep was amazingly swift to come, pulling the exhausted Jedi into its comforting embrace.

His slumber lasted into the deep, early morning hours until with a restless turning, Qui-Gon started up from the layers of sleep, vaguely disturbed. There was only a moment's warning, a brief sense of imminent danger whispered through the Force startling Jinn into wakefulness. He sensed a darker shadow against the inky blackness of night, and Qui-Gon flung his hand outward, calling his lightsaber to him but not before a sharp, hot pain spread through his chest. The 'saber was ignited a split second later, illuminating the covered face of his assailant in eerie green as the blade hummed between them, driven straight through the attacker's chest by its activation. There was a moment of almost stunned silence as Qui-Gon tried to find his voice, but another voice spoke first, an anxious cry as the lights came on and he blinked against the brightness, deactivating his 'saber.

"Dajo!" Iya rushed into the room as the figure of Qui-Gon's would-be assassin crumpled to the floor and the tall Jedi sat up dazedly. "_Teim! Nei teim! _" _Help! Help us!_ The commotion was enough to waken other members of the Inais household; the doorway was suddenly crowded with the Roeh and his wife, and behind them was Inais Idriah and a pair of servants.

"What is going on?" Touko demanded as he took in the scene with a disbelieving eye.

"He tried to…kill me." Qui-Gon answered frankly, his right arm hanging limply at his side as he left the bed to kneel next to the motionless figure and turn him over. There was no pulse, his attacker having died nearly instantly with the ignition of the lightsaber. Glancing up once at his daughter and his hosts, he moved to pull aside the dark mask covering the dead man's face. Inais Cherida gasped, and Qui-Gon sat back on his heels. The sightless eyes that looked upward belonged to Inais Bala.

"Force help us!" That was Obuk, the slender but determined Healer pushing his way into the room as Qui-Gon forced himself up to his feet. "You're bleeding. Sit down before you fall down." Qui-Gon turned his gaze toward the Healer, blinking once in silent shock before his vision blurred and he quietly collapsed next to the body of his would-be murderer.

* * *

"Things are in motion, Lord Sidious..." Nacena's voice was properly demure yet pleased, a conniving expression dawning in green irises. "…that will ensure the destruction of the harmony between the Jedi and Bahreena." She inclined her head respectfully, ebony hair sliding past her face like a silken veil. The holographic image of her master twisted into an evilly delighted expression. A thin finger pointed at her.

"You have done well, Lady Malcia. Have you destroyed the Jedi apprentice?"

"Not…completely, Master." Nacena replied thoughtfully. "But he will not last much longer, and his master will be blamed for the schism now coming to the Bahreena people." She smiled deliciously. "The Jedi Order will dismiss Qui-Gon Jinn in disgrace."

"Very good, very good indeed." Sidious' gravelly voice cackled in gloating laughter. "Now you may return to Coruscant and fulfill your duties here."

"My Master…" Nacena bowed again, a bit more deeply this time, and paused only long enough to push the long hair behind her shoulder once again. "I request more time. Success will come only if the destruction of fellowship between the Jedi and Bahreen is complete. Surely you can see how this will benefit us." There was a long pause, and for a moment, the green eyes darkened as she considered the likely refusal of her request. "You have made me your agent not only in the Senate, milord, but to advance your plans and provide you information from the Mid-Rim. What is happening here on Bahreen will determine how quickly you will be able to cut the Jedi off from their supporters." Her voice was not too hopeful; she was careful to sound as calculating as possible.

"Ahh, yes…" Sidious' amusement was further aroused with another crackling chuckle. "…and also allows you to fulfill your personal quest for blood."

Nacena was abruptly thankful that the holograph would not project the heat she felt rising in her cheeks, although she had the uncomfortable feeling that the dark lord was perfectly aware of her discomfort at being so easily read.

"My quest is yours, Lord Sidious."

"Very well." Even through the mild distortion of the holographic projection, Sidious' evilly amused smile was seen easily. "Proceed with…_our_ quest, and destroy the Bahreena alliance with the Jedi Order."

Nacena's own smile was deliciously spiteful as she inclined her head once more.

"It shall be done."

* * *

"Force preserve you, Qui-Gon Jinn but you were lucky."

Obuk's voice was the first thing Qui-Gon was aware of, followed closely by a fiery pain throbbing along with each heartbeat. Turning his head toward the sound of the Healer's voice, he dared to open his eyes, and Obuk came into his blurred vision.

"Hmph…" The grunt was about all Jinn was able to manage at first, but it elicited a broad grin from Obuk.

"Just as charming a patient as ever, I see." The slender Jedi pronounced, which did prompt more of a response from the patient in question. Qui-Gon made an effort to sit upright, and probably would have managed it but for Obuk's hands placed firmly at his shoulders. The Healer had very little struggle after that as his grip on Jinn's right shoulder produced an increased reminder of injury. "Pain, at least, you understand you stubborn gundark. Just lie still and let me do my work." Qui-Gon fell back against the mound of pillows that Inais Cherida had supplied, another soft grunt escaping his lips with the motion.

"Thought…I didn't need to…be reminded…that…I'm stubborn." Qui-Gon breathed out, the effort of speaking enough to make him close his eyes again, each word bringing a sharp ache to his chest.

"Qui…" Obuk said affectionately, but somewhat seriously, "…shut up." Slender hands deftly re-bandaged the injured Jedi's chest and shoulder in a swath of bacta patches and binding material, by necessity ignoring the sharp little gasp with the application of the bacta. Once the fresh dressing was in place, Obuk placed delicate fingertips against the wounded area, directing a soft touch through the Force to aid the knitting together of damaged tissues and to ease the pain.

"What was that…about being lucky?" Qui-Gon asked, his voice coming to him a little easier now as he reopened his eyes and frowned slightly, struggling to focus more clearly. "I don't _feel_ like it."

"First of all, you were attacked with a standard Model Five, modified vibroblade, which for starters is outlawed on most planets. It could've very easily opened you up from nose to knees. Secondly, it missed anything vital, like the heart I know is hiding in there." Obuk's voice turned a bit more serious from the mild rebuke as he checked over his work with a critical eye. "The wound itself is pretty deep and that's bad enough. It's been bleeding pretty stubbornly, but I'm satisfied that you're going to live."

"Good for you…" Qui-Gon replied, but the sarcasm lacked his normal strength.

"You should try being something other than a grouchy old man." Obuk chided lightly. "You have a daughter outside this room that's very anxious to see her father."

"Iya…may she…?"

"I'll send her in." Obuk smiled despite placing hands on hips. "_Provided_ that you rest. I know I won't be able to keep you here for long considering the circumstances but while you can just stay put, please. I'll be outside if you need me." Qui-Gon reached across with his left hand, abruptly clasping his friend's wrist and keeping the Healer from turning away.

"Thank you." He said honestly, quietly. Obuk's smile broadened.

"You're welcome." The grin became mischievous. "Force only knows why you've been left to me but I'm glad to have you here awhile longer, Master Jinn." Qui-Gon released his hand and the Healer turned aside, muttering as he headed for the door. "Iya will be here momentarily; I'm going to go check on Obi-Wan. Force, I swear you two conspire to keep me busy. I don't even get a break when you go out on assignment!"

Qui-Gon smiled a bit to himself as he watched the retreating figure of the graceful Healer, allowing his head to drop back to the pillows. Force knew there were few better in the Order than Obuk. Inhaling slowly, testing the reaction of his chest to a deeper breath, Qui-Gon glanced down at the wealth of material enfolding the injury. Obuk, he was sure, would have been happier dunking him into a bacta tank but the field dressing and patches would have to do.

"Dajo?" Iya's soft inquiry drew his attention, and Qui-Gon looked up, motioning with his left hand for her to come further in. Her relief was visible as she came to his bedside and cupped a slender hand to his face. "Master Obuk says you'll be all right." A tight swallow, a vulnerable expression. "I thought perhaps I might be an orphan a second time."

"I'm not that easily done away with." Qui-Gon replied affectionately.

"I don't know about that." Iya answered guardedly, and she sat down in the chair beside her father and took his hand in hers. "The whole House is…" She sought the word she wanted, frowned a little. "…_niketero_. Without peace…unsettled."

Qui-Gon exhaled sharply, ignoring the twinge it brought to his chest. He'd known from the moment Bala's face had been uncovered that it would be a flashpoint for the dissent smoldering among the Houses of Bahreen.

"How bad is it?" He asked Iya frankly, midnight blue eyes troubled. His daughter shook her head slightly.

"Jhu hain, Dajo." _Bad enough_. "The Roeh has disowned Idriah and declared that he is no longer House Third." Qui-Gon groaned audibly. Aside from the loss of his son, that disgrace alone was enough to prompt Idriah's anger. There was nothing more important to the Houses than honor. Stripping Idriah of his name and title would invite trouble; of that, Qui-Gon had no doubt. "There's more, Dajo. Bala has been assigned to the Nameless Place."

"Force help us." Jinn murmured, curling his fingers more tightly around Iya's hand. The Nameless Place was the portion of House burial land designated for the dishonored dead, whose final punishment included an unmarked grave and removal from the House record of ancestry. A punishment not inflicted on any member of a ruling House since before the time of their involvement with the Jedi. Peace had existed in those centuries after the last such burial. There likely would be no peace after this one. "When is this to take place?"

"It already has, Master Jedi."

Inais Touko stood in the doorway, his face lined with the most serious of expressions, a deep distress in the intelligent eyes. Iya looked up from her father to the House Roeh, acknowledging his presence with a gracious nod. Touko did not return it, coming instead to the foot of Qui-Gon's bed, gazing at his guest directly. "The Healer tells me that your injury is not life-threatening and I am truly grateful."

"As am I." Qui-Gon replied with gentle good humor, seeking to put the man at ease. "Thank you for your concern, Roeh." He watched as Touko's head bowed; the weight of the world it seemed, on his shoulders. "You may speak freely in the presence of this daughter of the House Amagi. She is…loyal to the _Anhri Jotar_ and will not betray your words."

"You understand the situation well, Master Jinn." His voice was soft, yet pained. "I knew Idriah was becoming involved with this…radical element that would set Bahreen against the ancient traditions and the Jedi Order. However, I never expected such a thing to evolve into attempted murder. Certainly not to kill a Jedi Knight in _my_ House." The Roeh of the House Inais began to pace, his agitation evident in every step. "I do not even know who I may trust among my own people." He exhaled sharply, raking a hand through hair that was still sleep-disheveled. "Your aid in this matter is no longer quiet, Master Jedi. Already Idriah has summoned the Prime Voice and there has been a general call for the dissenting Houses to unite. I don't know what we will face come morning."

"My service remains to the Order and to the Bahreena." Qui-Gon reassured. "I will not abandon my duty here; you have my word as a Jedi."

"I am grateful for your devotion, Master Jedi." Touko paused, his expression one of contrition. "I cannot begin to express my regret to you or to ask your forgiveness for what has happened."

"Inais Touko." Qui-Gon replied quietly, but firmly, "You are not held responsible for your brother's…or your nephew's actions. You are responsible only for your own. Please allow me to express my regret to you for the disruption of your family." Touko ceased pacing abruptly, a surprised look on his features.

"You are a gracious man, even for a Jedi Knight." A brief, regretful smile crossed his features. "If you were not already sworn to the Order, I would take you as my brother into this House in Idriah's place."

"You honor me with your confidence, Inais Roeh."

"And now he will honor you with some peace and quiet." Obuk pronounced kindly but firmly, granting the Roeh a short nod but motioning with slender hands to shoo the Bahreena leader from the room. He placed a hand on Iya's shoulder. "You too. There are still a few hours before sunrise and we are all going to get some sleep." The Healer looked at Qui-Gon knowingly. "_All_ of us." Iya rose gracefully, giving her father a respectful bow as should be accorded a Jedi by a House firstborn before withdrawing from the room.

Inais Touko's eyes focused on dark shadows gathered outside the window as Iya departed and then turned his troubled gaze to the two Jedi before him. A wordless worry passed between them, the heaviness of a dangerous future hanging over them and then Touko inclined his head slightly.

"Rest well, Master Jinn." The ruler looked at Obuk. "And may the Force favor us with peace." Turning away, the Roeh strode from the room.

"I doubt," Qui-Gon quipped lightly, "that there will be much sleeping going on in this house." He gave Obuk a wise look. "In the morning we're going to have the prelude to a civil war on our hands. I must contact the Council, and you know that we can't wait any longer to look for Obi-Wan." He started to sit up, but as before, Obuk pushed him back onto the bed.

"And what condition do you think you're in to handle any of that?" Obuk arched his eyebrows. "There are three hours before sunrise and you're staying right there until then." The hand at Qui-Gon's good shoulder shifted just a little. "_Sleep_." For just a brief moment, a startled look crossed Jinn's features. "I never said I was above a little trickery." The Healer said as the Force-enhanced suggestion pulled Qui-Gon's consciousness down into the warm depths of sleep. Satisfied after a long moment that the injured Jedi had succumbed completely to his ministrations, Obuk pulled the blanket up a bit more and stepped away. Walking to the window and gazing outward, he considered his friend's words…_In the morning we're going to have the prelude to a civil war on our hands_.

There was motion out there, in the dark, the deep shadows of predawn stubbornly clinging to what he could or could not see. Obuk reached out into the Force, probing, searching. He sensed the Roeh's House guards, staking positions along the perimeter of their ruler's dwelling. As he had gone to look in on Obi-Wan, he had passed pairs of guards stationed outside the door of this room, and the room containing young Kenobi's body.

"Force preserve us all." He murmured softly.

* * *

The light that filtered into the recesses of his blue prison wasn't sunlight, but something artificial and glaring. His attention drawn, Obi-Wan looked up to see Nacena approaching him, garbed in the deep blue robes that she had worn upon their first meeting. Her hands extended toward him and he could see after a moment that the glare was coming from the heart of the cerubathain, the talisman that he had seen upon his arrival in the Blue House and which she now carried before her.

"You're fading." She said pleasantly, her face distorted cruelly by the harsh, ugly glare. "Even I need help to see you now." Her steps brought her close, and her expression was pleased in a way that made Obi-Wan anxious. "I am sorry, however that in your final hours you can't hear the song of the Force drawing you on."

"What are you talking about?" He bristled, defiance rising in him once again. Nacena's laughter, while light, was grating.

"I'm talking about revenge, my young Jedi friend." She replied smoothly, circling around to Obi-Wan's right. "I'm talking about the fact that your body is dying. And when it expires without you…there will be nowhere for you to go except to the Force…or…" Eyelashes fluttered a little as she looked over at him. "…not." She held up the cerubathain, came nearer. "Look closer." She commanded. He didn't want to, but there was something compelling about the strange, shifting harsh light. Abruptly there was a shift in his perception, and he could hear screams.

"_What…what _is_ that?_" He gasped hoarsely.

"In the early days of war between the Jedi and the Sith…" Nacena moved away, breaking Obi-Wan's contact with the cerubathain and stilling the cries that echoed in his 'ears.' "…there were many with talents similar to the ones that split you apart. In some of those battles, Jedi were taken by Sith with those abilities. They were parted from their bodies and held captive much as I have you now." Berayl nodded toward the cerubathain. "Using some of these, many of those disembodied Jedi were imprisoned and not allowed to join the Force. As I will imprison you when your body fails."

Obi-Wan recoiled; the cries he had heard had been awful, despairing. Could it really be that these were Jedi trapped by the Dark Side for over four centuries? If he had not been held fast himself, he might have made a lunge for the object in her hands, if only to find a way to free the captives whose plaintive moans had pierced his consciousness.

"You won't succeed."

The words were out before he'd really thought them through; Obi-Wan hesitated briefly. Were they spoken just out of expected resistance? His captor's amused expression spoke to that moment's doubt, and just that quickly Obi-Wan felt his heart sink. _Something's wrong…something's really wrong_. His senses whispered to him and had he been corporally present, a violent shiver would have traveled his spine.

"You are brave, Padawan Kenobi." Nacena purred, eyelids lowering slightly. "And I admire bravery. Your Master did well to teach you to release your fear." Her expression grew hard, cold. "It is a lesson that will not help either of you now. Fear will be your prison, and your Master will die knowing that he could not protect the last son of Jurashe…and that never again will the Bahreena welcome the Jedi with open arms."

The Dark woman swept past him now, carrying the talisman that would be his lock and key, and Obi-Wan stared after her in disbelief. _Son of Jurashe?_ Obi-Wan had learned about the Jurashe Massacre years ago in his Interstellar History classes; millions of Force-sensitives murdered in a violent uprising as rival clans vied for power and took out their hatred on those they feared. Just two decades later, there were very few Force-sensitive Jurashei children left in the universe, where once there had been tens of thousands.

_Focus, Obi-Wan_. Kenobi chided himself; he could imagine his master's instruction. So often Master Qui-Gon had taught that where his focus went, reality would follow. Just now, reality seemed solidly turned on its ear and more than ever, he needed to concentrate. Time was not his ally; he had very little of it left if what his captor had said was true. Of greater importance than the questions surrounding Iya Jinn, or those about of his own heritage—be it Jurashei as his enemy implied or Bahreena as his own memory suggested—was the danger in which his Master remained.

Calling the Force to himself, Obi-Wan drew himself into the deepest level of concentration he possibly could, allowing all else to fade around him as he sought out the one solution that was left to him.

"_Iya_..." He whispered into the strong current all around him. "_Iya Jinn…you must hear me_."

Obi-Wan flung every bit of strength he could into he effort; Iya _had_ to sense his call. Everything depended upon it, for if he failed now, there would be nothing to keep the spreading darkness from destroying Bahreen…his Master…his very soul.

* * *

Dawn was just kissing the Bahreena sky with blushed hues when Qui-Gon next awakened. He drew in a deep breath, realized that it didn't hurt to do so, and blessed Obuk's talents. Glancing downward, he took note idly that the bandages had been changed yet again sometime during his forced rest without waking him, and he reached up with his other hand to explore the material with his fingertips.

There was yet a bit of tenderness with his prodding, but not enough to be seriously painful. Another testament to Obuk's skillful healing. Quite likely while he had not been awake to protest, the Healer had stayed at his side, wielding the Force to mend the wound nearly to completion. Turning his head to the left, Qui-Gon's suspicion was borne out by the sight of the slender Healer dozing in a nearby chair, head tipped back and mouth open in sleep. Jinn grinned a bit at Obuk's somewhat less than dignified appearance before rolling up into a sitting position, again rather pleased that the discomfort at such an effort was minimal.

In the somewhat rosy morning light just beginning to spread into the room, the tall Jedi forced himself up to his feet and shuffled to the window, gazing outward. The sight that met his eyes was enough to distress the leonine features, still slightly pale from his ordeal just hours earlier. Already there was a crowd gathering before the security perimeter of the Inais estate, and it didn't take a genius or any Jedi training to know that many of them were armed. Armed, and angry. Already shouts were beginning to rise in the early morning air and it wouldn't be long before the entire household was aroused.

"Remind me to make a note in the official report that you were right." Obuk's tired voice sounded behind him, and Qui-Gon glanced back at him.

"This is the one time I'd have preferred to be wrong." The tall Jedi replied quietly. Turning back to the window, he stretched out into the Force, allowing his feelings to assess the situation. He could easily enough sense the agitation of the crowd; there was little effort needed for that. Hard on the heels of that sensation was the sharp edge of fear and anxiety rippling through the House security forces. Several were Force-adept; Qui-Gon reached out and swept a calming touch over them. "It's only going to take a small spark to blow this up in our faces."

"I'd say from what's out there there's enough sparks to blow our faces halfway across the galaxy." Obuk replied dryly, unfolding himself from the chair and coming to stand next to Jinn. Serious eyes flicked over his friend, the ever-present Healer's instinct gauging Qui-Gon's physical state. A slight smile twitched at Jinn's lips.

"I'm fine already, thanks to you. You can stop hovering."

"You're welcome already." Obuk replied archly, eyebrows coming up as he turned a bit and motioned toward the bandages. "Those can come off shortly, I would think." Rubbing at the back of his neck a bit, the Healer moved toward the door. "I'll look in on Obi-Wan first."

Qui-Gon turned away from the window as the toothpick-slim Healer exited the room, and picked up his outer tunic, carefully shrugging his way into it, pausing slightly with only a vague twinge at the motion. Wrapping it around himself to be as presentable as possible, he crossed over to the small communications console and activated it. Bringing the holo unit online, he keyed in the codes that would transmit his message to the Jedi Temple.

A few moments passed before the transmission registered as received. The small holographic figure that flickered into life before him was that of a somewhat less than awake Adi Gallia.

"_Qui-Gon…oh…_" The cocoa-skinned Master blinked. "_You look awful. What in Gareth's Fires happened?_"

"Good morning to you, too." Qui-Gon replied dryly, folding his arms across his chest. "You're looking lovely yourself."

"_Do you have any idea what time it is here?_" Adi rubbed at her eyes and stifled a yawn.

"Probably about as early as it is here on Bahreen." Jinn replied, exhaling slowly. "Or earlier. Get yourself a cup of jaffa and sit down. We have a lot to talk about." He shook his head a bit. "And then I need you to take an update to the Council."

_That_ got Gallia's attention, and she straightened up a bit, her expression undeniably curious despite the flickering holographic projection. Eyebrows rose on the exotic face and she leaned forward a little.

"_You're not reporting directly yourself?_" It was a slight breach of protocol, certainly but nothing that could be terribly surprising coming from him. Qui-Gon himself would admit that it was nothing new that he should ruffle a feather or two.

"I don't know that I will have time, Master Gallia." Qui-Gon replied steadily, fixing his imposing gaze on the image before him. "What I must speak with you about is as important as what the Council must know about what is happening here on Bahreen." A moment passed in silence before a smile appeared on Adi's face.

"_You've met your daughter, then_." At what surely must have been a shocked expression from him, Qui-Gon next heard a gentle chuckle from the graceful Adi. "_You didn't think Ina would have stayed on Bahreen without any knowledge about your well-being, now, did you? We spoke often, and you would not believe the time I had getting her to stay put when you nearly got yourself killed during that mission to Talquu_."

Qui-Gon drew a slow, thoughtful breath. Talquu had resulted in nearly a week in a bacta tank and severe doubts about whether or not he would survive. Apparently, Obuk had been correct in his assessment of Ina's friendship with Adi Gallia. Perhaps there were other things the Healer was aware of as well. Hunching his shoulders slightly and ignoring the tiny answering twinge in his chest with the motion, he nodded a little.

"Things have become very dangerous here and I need to talk to you about…bringing her back to the Temple with me."

* * *

Sunlight was beginning to filter into her window, but it wasn't the light that awakened her, nor was it the growing sound of the angry crowd gathering just beyond the Roeh's gates. It was the desperate, weakened, painful whisper that somehow found its way into her dream, forcing her to wakefulness.

"_Vihmi! Vih san Jotar!_" Iya cried out, sitting up abruptly in a tangle of blankets and disheveled hair. Pushing the offending tresses out of her face, she ran her hand over her eyes, trying to gain a grasp on what she had felt and heard.

Screaming. That's what she had heard. The anguished voices of…Jedi. Trying to slow her breathing, Iya's brow furrowed tightly as she struggled to sort through the confusing sensations that seemed to stay with her even though she was awake.

Then she heard it again…a whisper so soft that she had to close her eyes and concentrate deeply to hear it. _Iya…Iya Jinn, you must hear me_. Obi-Wan…it was Obi-Wan! Shoving aside the bedcovers and snatching up a robe, she shrugged her way into it and settled into a nearby chair. Irritably brushing runaway curls from her eyes once more, she drew a deep breath and closed her eyes. Reaching down and stretching out, Iya brought her concentration down into a very fine line, wrapping around the voice and focusing tightly in on it. Unconsciously her lips moved as she reached for her father's apprentice.

"Obi-Wan…can you hear me?" The flood of relief that swept over her was stronger than his voice had been, although alongside it, she could still hear the unsettling cries that had wakened her to begin with, and she tried to sort through them once again. Iya squeezed her eyes more tightly closed, a subconscious mirror of her struggle to narrow her focus. She could feel her grasp on the voice slipping, and physically she leaned forward as she strained to 'hear' the young Jedi once again. "Obi-Wan…where are you? How can we find you?"

There was a flash, a brief mental image, and Iya grabbed for it. Her contact with Kenobi fading, Iya was left with a single impression, and she leaned back in the chair as she turned it over in her mind.

It was the face of a child.


End file.
